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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

llllllllllll 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  01602  4499 


A 


r 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGa 


"\ 


Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall  after  two  weeks. 

Date  Due 

mf^im^ 

WAY  05  1993 

\ 

1 

CI  39  (1/91)                                                                UCSDUb. 

At  it.-jCt^/-if  /-^c    /^Z  /f  ■ 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

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littp://www.archive.org/details/banquetofplatoOOplatiala 


THE   BANQUET. 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GREEK  OF  PLATO. 


/^f>c 


DECORATIONS  BY  MR.  BRUCE  ROGERS 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SAN  DIEGO 


lllll    !l!    Ill    I  III 

3  1822  01602  4499 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 


["I  am  employed  just  now,  having  little 
better  to  do,  in  translating  into  my  faint  and 
ine£5cient  periods,  the  divine  eloquence  of 
Plato's  Symposium ;  only  as  an  exercise,  or, 
perhaps,  to  give  Mary  some  idea  of  the  man- 
ners and  feelings  of  the  Athenians — so  differ- 
ent on  many  subjects  from  that  of  any  other 
community  that  ever  existed." 

From  a  letter  v/ritten  by  Shelley  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gisborne,  dated  "Bagni  di  Lucca,  July  loth,  1818. 

"  I  have  lately  found  myself  totally  incap- 
able of  original  composition.  I  employed  my 
mornings,  therefore,  in  translating  the  Sym- 
posium, which  I  accomplished  in  ten  days. 
Mary  is  now  transcribing  it,  and  I  am  writmg 
a  prefatory  essay." 

Written  to  Peacock  ("Fraser's  Magazine," 
March,  i860,  page  303.)] 


ON  THE  SYMPOSIUM, 

OR    PREFACE    TO    THE   BANQUET    OF    PLATO.' 

A   FRAGMENT. 

H  E  dialogue 
entitled  "The 
Banquet," 
was  selected 
by  the  trans- 
lator as  the 
most  beauti- 
ful and  per- 
fect among 
all  the  works 
of  Plato*  He 
despairs  of  having  communicated  to 
the  English  language  any  portion  of 
the  surpassing  graces  of  the  compo- 
sition, or  having  done  more  than  pre- 
sent an  imperfect  shadow  of  the  lan- 

*  The  Republic,  though  replete  with  considerable 
errors  of  speculation,  is,  indeed,  the  greatest  repository 
of  important  truths  of  all  the  works  of  Plato.  This, 
perhaps,  is  because  it  is  the  longest.  He  first,  and  per- 
haps last,  maintained  that  a  state  ought  to  be  governed, 
not  by  the  wealthiest,  or  the  most  ambitious,  or  the 
most  cunning,  but  by  the  wisest ;  the  method  of  select- 
ing such  rulers,  and  the  laws  by  which  such  a  selection 
is  made,  must  correspond  with  and  arise  out  of  the 
moral  freedom  and  refinement  of  the  people. 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

guage  and  the  sentiment  of  this  as- 
tonishing production. 

Plato  is  eminently  the  greatest 
among  the  Greek  philosophers,  and 
from,  or,  rather,  perhaps  through  him, 
from  his  master  Socrates,  have  pro- 
ceeded those  emanations  of  moral 
and  metaphysical  knowledge,  on 
which  a  long  series  and  an  incalcula- 
ble variety  of  popular  superstitions 
have  sheltered  their  absurdities  from 
the  slow  contempt  of  mankind.  Plato 
exhibits  the  rare  union  of  close  and 
subtle  logic,  with  the  Pythian  enthu- 
siasm of  poetry,  melted  by  the  splen- 
dour and  harmony  of  his  periods  into 
one  irresistible  stream  of  musical  im- 
pressions, which  hurry  the  persua- 
sions onward,  as  in  a  breathless 
career.  His  language  is  that  of  an 
immortal  spirit,  rather  than  a  man. 
Lord  Bacon  is,  perhaps,  the  only 
writer,  who,  in  these  particulars,  can 
be  compared  with  him :  his  imitator, 
Cicero,  sinks  in  the  comparison  into 
an  ape  mocking  the  gestures  of  a 
man.  His  views  into  the  nature  of 
mind  and  existence  are  often  obscure, 
only  because  they  are  profound ;  and 

8 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

though  his  theories  respecting  the 
government  of  the  world,  and  the  ele- 
mentary laws  of  moral  action,  are  not 
always  correct,  yet  there  is  scarcely 
any  of  his  treatises  which  do  not, 
however  stained  by  puerile  sophisms, 
contain  the  most  remarkable  intui- 
tions into  all  that  can  be  the  subject 
of  the  human  mind.  His  excellence 
consists  especially  in  intuition,  and 
it  is  this  faculty  which  raises  him  far 
above  Aristotle,  whose  genius,  though 
vivid  and  various,  is  obscure  in  com- 
parison with  that  of  Plato. 

The  dialogue  entitled  the  "Ban- 
quet," is  called  EpoinxuZ,  or  a  Discus- 
sion upon  Love,  and  is  supposed  to 
have  taken  place  at  the  house  of 
Agathon,  at  one  of  a  series  of  festi- 
vals given  by  that  poet,  on  the  occa- 
sion of  his  gaining  the  prize  of  trag- 
edy at  the  Dionysiaca.  The  account 
of  the  debate  on  this  occasion  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  given  by  Apollo- 
dorus,  a  pupil  of  Socrates,  many 
years  after  it  had  taken  place,  to  a 
companion  who  was  curious  to  hear 
it.  This  Apollodorus  appears,  both 
from  the  style  in  which  he  is  repre- 


THE   BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

sented  in  this  piece,  as  well  as  from 
a  passage  in  the  Phaedon,  to  have 
been  a  person  of  an  impassioned  and 
enthusiastic  disposition;  to  borrow 
an  image  from  the  Italian  painters, 
he  seems  to  have  been  the  St.  John 
of  the  Socratic  group.  The  drama 
(for  so  the  lively  distinction  of  char- 
acter and  the  various  and  well- 
wrought  circumstances  of  the  story 
almost  entitle  it  to  be  called)  begins 
by  Socrates  persuading  Aristodemus 
to  sup  at  Agathon's,  uninvited.  The 
whole  of  this  introduction  affords  the 
most  lively  conception  of  refined 
Athenian  manners. 


THE  BANQUET. 


THE  PERSONS  OF  THE  DIALOGUE. 

APOLLODORUS. 

A  FRIEND  OF  APOLLODORUS. 

GLAUCO. 

ARISTODEMUS. 

SOCRATES. 

AGATHON. 

PH^DRUS. 

PAUSANIAS. 

ERYXIMACHUS. 

ARISTOPHANES. 

DIOTIMA. 

ALCIBIADES. 


THE    BANQUET. 

TRANSLATED  FROM   PLATO. 

APOLLODORUS. 

THINK  that 
the  subject  of 
your  inquiries 
is  still  fresh  in 
my  memory; 
for  yesterday, 
as  I  chanced 
to  be  return- 
ing home  from 
Phaleros,  one 
of  my  acquain- 
tance, seeing  me  before  him,  called 
out  to  me  from  a  distance,  jokingly, 
"  Apollodorus,  you  Phalerian,  will 
you  not  wait  a  minute  ?" — I  waited 
for  him,  and  as  soon  as  he  over- 
took me,  "I  have  just  been  looking 
for  you,  Apollodorus,"  he  said,  "for 
I  wished  to  hear  what  those  discus- 
sions were  on  Love,  which  took 
place  at  the  party,  when  Agathon, 
Socrates,  Alcibiades,  and  some  oth- 
ers met  at  supper.     Some  one  who 

13 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

heard  it  from  Phoenix,  the  son  of 
Philip,  told  me  that  you  could  give 
a  full  account,  but  he  could  relate 
nothing  distinctly  himself.  Relate  to 
me,  then,  I  entreat  you,  all  the  cir- 
cumstances. I  know  you  are  a  faith- 
ful reporter  of  the  discussions  of  your 
friends;  but,  first  tell  me,  were  you 
present  at  the  party  or  not  ?  " 

"Your  informant,"  I  replied, 
"  seems  to  have  given  you  no  very 
clear  idea  of  what  you  wish  to 
hear,  if  he  thinks  that  these  dis- 
cussions took  place  so  lately  as 
that  I  could  have  been  of  the 
party." — "Indeed,  I  thought  so,"  re- 
plied he. — "For  how,"  said  I,  "O 
Glauco  !  could  I  have  been  present? 
Do  you  not  know  that  Agathon  has 
been  absent  from  the  city  many 
years?  But,  since  I  began  to  con- 
verse with  Socrates,  and  to  observe 
each  day  all  his  words  and  actions, 
three  years  are  scarcely  past.  Be- 
fore this  time  I  wandered  about 
wherever  it  might  chance,  thinking 
that  I  did  something,  but  being,  in 
truth,  a  most  miserable  wretch,  not 
less  than  you  are  now,  who  believe 

14 


THE    BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

that  you  ought  to  do  anything  rather 
than  practise  the  love  of  wisdom." — 
"Do  not  cavil,"  interrupted  Glauco, 
"but  tell  me,  when  did  this  party 
take  place  ?" 

"Whilst  we  were  yet  children,"  I 
replied,  "  when  Agathon  first  gained 
the  prize  of  tragedy,  and  the  day 
after  that  on  which  he  and  the 
chorus  made  sacrifices  in  celebra- 
tion of  their  success." — "A  long  time 
ago,  it  seems.  But  who  told  you  all 
the  circumstances  of  the  discussion? 
Did  you  hear  them  from  Socrates 
himself?"— "No,  by  Jupiter!  But 
the  same  person  from  whom  Phoenix 
had  his  information,  one  Aristode- 
mus,  a  Cydathenean, — a  little  man 
who  always  went  about  without  san- 
dals. He  was  present  at  this  feast, 
being,  I  believe,  more  than  any  of 
his  contemporaries,  a  lover  and 
admirer  of  Socrates.  I  have  ques- 
tioned Socrates  concerning  some 
of  the  circumstances  of  his  narra- 
tion, who  confirms  all  that  I  have 
heard  from  Aristodemus." — "Why, 
then,"  said  Glauco,  "  why  not  relate 
them,  as  we  walk,  to  me?    The  road 

IS 


THE    BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

to  the  city  is  every  way  convenient, 
both  for  those  who  listen  and  those 
who  speak." 

Thus  as  we  walked  I  gave  him 
some  account  of  those  discussions 
concerning  Love;  since,  as  I  said 
before,  I  remember  them  with  suffi- 
cient accuracy.  If  I  am  required  to 
relate  them  also  to  you,  that  shall 
willingly  be  done;  for,  whensoever 
either  I  myself  talk  of  philosophy, 
or  listen  to  others  talking  of  it,  in 
addition  to  the  improvement  which  I 
conceive  there  arises  from  such  con- 
versation, I  am  delighted  beyond 
measure  ;  but  whenever  I  hear  your 
discussions  about  monied  men  and 
great  proprietors,  I  am  weighed 
down  with  grief,  and  pity  you,  who, 
doing  nothing,  believe  that  you  are 
doing  something.  Perhaps  you  think 
that  I  am  a  miserable  wretch ;  and, 
indeed,  I  believe  that  you  think  truly. 
I  do  not  think,  but  well  know,  that 
you  are  miserable. 

COMPANION. 

You  are  always  the  same,  Apollo- 
dorus — always  saying   some    ill   of 

i6 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

yourself  and  others.  Indeed,  you 
seem  to  me  to  think  every  one  mis- 
erable except  Socrates,  beginning 
with  yourself.  I  do  not  know  what 
could  have  entitled  you  to  the  sur- 
name of  the  "  Madman,"  for  I  am 
sure,  you  are  consistent  enough,  for 
ever  inveighing  with  bitterness 
against  yourself  and  all  others,  ex- 
cept Socrates. 

APOLLODORUS. 

My  dear  friend,  it  is  manifest  that 
I  am  out  of  my  wits  from  this  alone — 
that  I  have  such  opinions  as  you  de- 
scribe concerning  myself  and  you. 

COMPANION. 

It  is  not  worth  while,  Apollodorus, 
to  dispute  now  about  these  things ; 
but  do  what  I  entreat  you,  and  relate 
to  us  what  were  these  discussions. 

APOLLODORUS 

They  were  such  as  I  will  proceed 
to  tell  you.  But  let  me  attempt  to 
relate  them  in  the  order  which  Aris- 
todemus  observed  in  relating  them 
to  me.     He  said  that  he  met  Soc- 

17 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

rates  washed,  and,  contrary  to  his 
usual  custom,  sandalled,  and  having 
inquired  whither  he  went  so  gaily- 
dressed,  Socrates  replied,  "I  am  go- 
ing to  sup  at  Agathon's ;  yesterday 
I  avoided  it,  disliking  the  crowd, 
which  would  attend  at  the  prize  sac- 
rifices then  celebrated ;  today  I  prom- 
ised to  be  there,  and  I  made  myself 
so  gay,  because  one  ought  to  be 
beautiful  to  approach  one  who  is 
beautiful.  But  you,  Aristodemus, 
what  think  you  of  coming  uninvited 
to  supper?" — "I  will  do,"  he  replied, 
"as  you  command." — "Follow,  then, 
that  we  may,  by  changing  its  appli- 
cation, disarm  that  proverb  which 
says,  *  To  the  feasts  of  the  good,  the 
good  come  uninvited.'  Homer,  in- 
deed, seems  not  only  to  destroy,  but 
to  outrage  the  proverb ;  for,  describ- 
ing Agamemnon  as  excellent  in  bat- 
tle, and  Menelaus  but  a  faint-hearted 
warrior,  he  represents  Menelaus  as 
coming  uninvited  to  the  feast  of  one 
better  and  braver  than  himself." — 
Aristodemus  hearing  this,  said,  "I 
also  am  in  some  danger,  Socrates, 
not  as  you  say,  but  according  to  Ho- 
x8 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

mer,  of  approaching  like  an  unworthy 
inferior,  the  banquet  of  one  more  wise 
and  excellent  than  myself.  Will  you 
not,  then,  make  some  excuse  for  me  ? 
for,  I  shall  not  confess  that  I  came 
uninvited,  but  shall  say  that  I  was 
invited  by  you." — "As  we  walk  to- 
gether," said  Socrates,  "we  will  con- 
sider together  what  excuse  to  make 
— but  let  us  go." 

Thus  discoursing,  they  proceeded. 
But,  as  they  walked,  Socrates,  en- 
gaged in  some  deep  contemplation, 
slackened  his  pace,  and,  observing 
Aristodemus  waiting  for  him,  he  de- 
sired him  to  go  on  before.  When 
Aristodemus  arrived  at  Agathon's 
house  he  found  the  door  open,  and  it 
occurred  somewhat  comically,  that  a 
slave  met  him  at  the  vestibule,  and 
conducted  him  where  he  found  the 
guests  already  reclined.  As  soon  as 
Agathon  saw  him,  "You  arrive  just 
in  time  to  sup  with  us,  Aristodemus," 
he  said;  "if  you  have  any  other  pur- 
pose in  your  visit,  defer  it  to  a  better 
opportunity.  I  was  looking  for  you 
yesterday,  to  invite  you  to  be  of  our 
party ;  I  could  not  find  you  anywhere. 

19 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

But  how  is  it  that  you  do  not  bring 
Socrates  with  you?" 

But  he  turning  round,  and  not  see- 
ing Socrates  behind  him,  said  to 
Agathon,  "I  just  came  hither  in  his 
company,  being  invited  by  him  to  sup 
with  you." — "You  did  well,"  replied 
Agathon,  "to  come;  but  where  is 
Socrates?"  —  "He  just  now  came 
hither  behind  me ;  I  myself  wonder 
where  he  can  be." — "Go  and  look, 
boy,"  said  Agathon,  "  and  bring  Soc- 
rates in;  meanwhile,  you,  Aristode- 
mus,  recline  there  near  Eryxima- 
chus."  And  he  bade  a  slave  wash 
his  feet  that  he  might  recline.  An- 
other slave,  meanwhile,  brought  word 
that  Socrates  had  retired  into  a 
neighbouring  vestibule,  where  he 
stood,  and,  in  spite  of  his  message, 
refused  to  come  in. — "  What  absurd- 
ity you  talk,"  cried  Agathon,  "call 
him,  and  do  not  leave  him  till  he 
comes." — "Leave  him  alone,  by  all 
means,"  said  Aristodemus,  "it  is  cus- 
tomary with  him  sometimes  to  retire 
in  this  way  and  stand  wherever  it 
may  chance.  He  will  come  presently, 
I  do  not  doubt ;  do  not  disturb  him." 

20 


THE  BANQUET   OF    PLATO. 

— "Well,  be  it  as  you  will,"  said  Aga- 
thon;  "as  it  is,  you  boys,  bring  sup- 
per for  the  rest ;  put  before  us  what 
you  will,  for  I  resolved  that  there 
should  be  no  master  of  the  feast. 
Consider  me,  and  these,  my  friends, 
as  guests,  whom  you  have  invited  to 
supper,  and  serve  them  so  that  we 
may  commend  you." 

After  this  they  began  supper,  but 
Socrates  did  not  come  in.  Agathon 
ordered  him  to  be  called,  but  Aristo- 
demus  perpetually  forbade  it.  At 
last  he  came  in,  much  about  the  mid- 
dle of  supper,  not  having  delayed  so 
long  as  was  his  custom.  Agathon 
(who  happened  to  be  reclining  at  the 
end  of  the  table,  and  alone,)  said,  as 
he  entered,  "Come  hither,  Socrates, 
and  sit  down  by  me ;  so  that  by  the 
mere  touch  of  one  so  wise  as  you  are, 
I  may  enjoy  the  fruit  of  your  medita- 
tions in  the  vestibule;  for,  I  well 
know,  you  would  not  have  departed 
till  you  had  discovered  and  secured 
it." 

Socrates  having  sate  down  as  he 
was  desired,  replied,  "It  would  be 
well,  Agathon,  if  wisdom  were  of  such 

21 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

a  nature,  that  when  we  touched  each 
other,  it  would  overflow  of  its  own 
accord,  from  him  who  possesses  much 
to  him  who  possesses  little ;  like  the 
water  in  two  chalices,  which  will  flow 
through  a  flock  of  wool  from  the  ful- 
ler into  the  emptier,  until  both  are 
equal.  If  wisdom  had  this  property, 
I  should  esteem  myself  most  fortu- 
nate in  reclining  near  to  you.  I 
should  thus  soon  be  fllled,  I  think, 
with  the  most  beautiful  and  various 
wisdom.  Mine,  indeed,  is  something 
obscure,  and  doubtful,  and  dreamlike. 
But  yours  is  radiant,  and  has  been 
crowned  with  amplest  reward;  for, 
though  you  are  yet  so  young,  it  shone 
forth  from  you,  and  became  so  mani- 
fest yesterday,  that  more  than  thirty 
thousand  Greeks  can  bear  testimony 
to  its  excellence  and  loveliness." — 
"You  are  laughing  at  me,  Socrates," 
said  Agathon,  "but  you  and  I  will  de- 
cide this  controversy  about  wisdom 
by  and  by,  taking  Bacchus  for  our 
judge.  At  present  turn  to  your  sup- 
per." 

After  Socrates  and  the  rest  had 
finished    supper,    and    had    reclined 


THE  BANQUET   OF  PLATO. 

back  on  their  couches,  and  the  liba- 
tions had  been  poured  forth,  and 
they  had  sung  hymns  to  the  god,  and 
all  other  rites  which  are  customary, 
had  been  performed,  they  turned  to 
drinking.  Then  Pausanias  made 
this  kind  of  proposal.  "Come,  my 
friends,"  said  he,  "in  what  manner 
will  it  be  pleasantest  for  us  to  drink  ? 
I  must  confess  to  you  that,  in  reality, 
I  am  not  very  well  from  the  wine  we 
drank  last  night,  and  I  have  need  of 
some  intermission.  I  suspect  that 
most  of  you  are  in  the  same  condi- 
tion, for  you  were  here  yesterday. 
Now,  consider  how  we  shall  drink 
most  easily  and  comfortably." 

"'Tis  a  good  proposal,  Pausanias," 
said  Aristophanes,  "to  contrive,  in 
some  way  or  other,  to  place  modera- 
tion in  our  cups.  I  was  one  of  those 
who  were  drenched  last  night." — 
Eryximachus,  the  son  of  Acumenius, 
hearing  this,  said:  "I  am  of  your 
opinion;  I  only  wish  to  know  one 
thing — whether  Agathon  is  in  the 
humour  for  hard  drinking?" — "Not 
at  all,"  replied  Agathon ;  "I  confess 
that  I  am  not  able  to  drink  much  this 

23 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

evening." — "It  is  an  excellent  thing 
for  us,"  replied  Eryximachus,  "I 
mean  myself,  Aristodemus,  Phaedrus, 
and  these  others,  if  you  who  are  such 
invincible  drinkers,  now  refuse  to 
drink.  I  ought  to  except  Socrates, 
for  he  is  capable  of  drinking  every- 
thing, or  nothing;  and  whatever  we 
shall  determine  will  equally  suit  him. 
Since,  then,  no  one  present  has  any 
desire  to  drink  much  wine,  I  shall 
perhaps  give  less  offence,  if  I  declare 
the  nature  of  drunkenness.  The  sci- 
ence of  medicine  teaches  us  that 
drunkenness  is  very  pernicious :  nor 
would  I  choose  to  drink  immoder- 
ately myself,  or  counsel  another  to  do 
so,  especially  if  he  had  been  drunk 
the  night  before."  —  "Yes,"  said 
Phaedrus,  the  Myrinusian,  interrupt- 
ing him,  "I  have  been  accustomed  to 
confide  in  you,  especially  in  your  di- 
rections concerning  medicine ;  and  I 
would  now  willingly  do  so,  if  the  rest 
will  do  the  same."  All  then  agreed 
that  they  would  drink  at  this  present 
banquet  not  for  drunkenness,  but  for 
pleasure. 

"Since,  then,"  said  Eryximachus, 

24 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

"it  is  decided  that  no  one  shall  be 
compelled  to  drink  more  than  he 
pleases,  I  think  that  we  may  as  well 
send  away  the  flute-player  to  play  to 
herself ;  or,  if  she  likes,  to  the  women 
within.  Let  us  devote  the  present 
occasion  to  conversation  between 
ourselves,  and  if  you  wish,  I  will  pro- 
pose to  you  what  shall  be  the  subject 
of  our  discussion."  All  present  de- 
sired and  entreated  that  he  would 
explain.  — "  The  exordium  of  my 
speech,"  said  Eryximachus,  "will  be 
in  the  style  of  the  Menalippe  of  Eurip- 
ides, for  the  story  which  I  am  about 
to  tell  belongs  not  to  me,  but  to 
Phaedrus.  Phaedrus  has  often  indig- 
nantly complained  to  me,  saying — 
*Is  it  not  strange,  Eryximachus,  that 
there  are  innumerable  hymns  and 
paeans  composed  for  the  other  gods, 
but  that  not  one  of  the  many  poets 
who  spring  up  in  the  world  has  ever 
composed  a  verse  in  honour  of  Love, 
who  is  such  and  so  great  a  god  ?  Nor 
any  one  of  those  accomplished  soph- 
ists, who,  like  the  famous  Prodicus, 
have  celebrated  the  praise  of  Hercu- 
les and  others,  have  ever  celebrated 

35 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

that  of  Love ;  but  what  is  more  aston- 
ishing, I  have  lately  met  with  the  book 
of  some  philosopher,  in  which  salt  is 
extolled  on  account  of  its  utility,  and 
many  other  things  of  the  same  nature 
are  in  like  manner  celebrated  with 
elaborate  praise.  That  so  much  se- 
rious thought  is  expended  on  such 
trifles,  and  that  no  man  has  dared  to 
this  day  to  frame  a  hymn  in  honour 
of  Love,  who  being  so  great  a  deity, 
is  thus  neglected,  may  well  be  suffi- 
cient to  excite  my  indignation.' 

"There  seemed  to  me  some  jus- 
tice in  these  complaints  of  Phaedrus  ; 
I  propose,  therefore,  at  the  same  time 
for  the  sake  of  giving  pleasure  to 
Phaedrus,  and  that  we  may  on  the 
present  occasion  do  something  well 
and  befitting  us,  that  this  god  should 
receive  from  those  who  are  now  pres- 
ent the  honour  which  is  most  due  to 
him.  If  you  agree  to  my  proposal, 
an  excellent  discussion  might  arise 
on  the  subject.  Every  one  ought,  ac- 
cording to  my  plan,  to  praise  Love 
with  as  much  eloquence  as  he  can. 
Let  Phaedrus  begin  first,  both  be- 
cause he  reclines  the  first  in  order, 
26 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

and  because  he  is  the  father  of  the 
discussion." 

"No  one  will  vote  against  you, 
Eryximachus,"  said  Socrates,  "for 
how  can  I  oppose  your  proposal,  who 
am  ready  to  confess  that  I  know 
nothing  on  any  subject  but  love  ?  Or 
how  can  Agathon,  or  Pausanias,  or 
even  Aristophanes,  whose  life  is  one 
perpetual  ministration  to  Venus  and 
Bacchus?  Or  how  can  any  other 
whom  I  see  here  ?  Though  we  who 
sit  last  are  scarcely  on  an  equality 
with  you ;  for  if  those  who  speak  be- 
fore us  shall  have  exhausted  the  sub- 
ject with  their  eloquence  and  reason- 
ings, our  discourses  will  be  superflu- 
ous. But  in  the  name  of  Good  For- 
tune, let  Phaedrus  begin  and  praise 
Love."  The  whole  party  agreed  to 
what  Socrates  said,  and  entreated 
Phaedrus  to  begin. 

What  each  then  said  on  this  sub- 
ject, Aristodemus  did  not  entirely 
recollect,  nor  do  I  recollect  all  that  he 
related  to  me ;  but  only  the  speeches 
of  those  who  said  what  was  most 
worthy  of  remembrance.  First,  then, 
Phaedrus  began  thus : — 

37 


THE  BANQUET  OF'  PLATO. 

"Love  is  a  mighty  deity,  and  the 
object  of  admiration,  both  to  gods 
and  men,  for  many  and  for  various 
claims ;  but  especially  on  account  of 
his  origin.  For  that  he  is  to  be  hon- 
oured as  one  of  the  most  ancient  of 
the  gods,  this  may  serve  as  a  testi- 
mony, that  Love  has  no  parents,  nor 
is  there  any  poet  or  other  person  who 
has  ever  affirmed  that  there  are  such. 
Hesiod  says,  that  first  *  Chaos  was 
produced;  then  the  broad-bosomed 
Earth,  to  be  a  secure  foundation  for 
all  things ;  then  Love.'  He  says,  that 
after  Chaos  these  two  were  produced, 
the  Earth  and  Love.  Parmenides, 
speaking  of  generation,  says: — 'But 
he  created  Love  before  any  of  the 
gods.'  Acusileus  agrees  with  Hesiod. 
Love,  therefore,  is  universally  ac- 
knowledged to  be  among  the  oldest 
of  things.  And  in  addition  to  this, 
Love  is  the  author  of  our  greatest 
advantages ;  for  I  cannot  imagine  a 
greater  happiness  and  advantage  to 
one  who  is  in  the  flower  of  youth  than 
an  amiable  lover,  or  to  a  lover,  than 
an  amiable  object  of  his  love.  For 
neither  birth,  nor  wealth,  nor  honours, 
28 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

can  awaken  in  the  minds  of  men  the 
principles  which  should  guide  those 
who  from  their  youth  aspire  to  an 
honourable  and  excellent  life,  as  Love 
awakens  them.  I  speak  of  the  fear 
of  shame,  which  deters  them  from 
that  which  is  disgraceful;  and  the 
love  of  glory,  which  incites  to  honour- 
able deeds.  For  it  is  not  possible 
that  a  state  or  private  person  should 
accomplish,  without  these  incite- 
ments, anything  beautiful  or  great. 
I  assert,  then,  that  should  one  who 
loves  be  discovered  in  any  dishon- 
ourable action,  or  tamely  enduring 
insult  through  cowardice,  he  would 
feel  more  anguish  and  shame  if  ob- 
served by  the  object  of  his  passion, 
than  if  he  were  observed  by  his  father, 
or  his  companions,  or  any  other  per- 
son. In  like  manner,  among  warmly 
attached  friends,  a  man  is  especially 
grieved  to  be  discovered  by  his  friend 
in  any  dishonourable  act.  If  then,  by 
any  contrivance,  a  state  or  army 
could  be  composed  of  friends  bound 
by  strong  attachment,  it  is  beyond 
calculation  how  excellently  they 
would  administer  their   affairs,  re- 

99 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

fraining  from  anything  base,  contend- 
ing with  each  other  for  the  acquire- 
ment of  fame,  and  exhibiting  such 
valour  in  battle  as  that,  though  few 
in  numbers,  they  might  subdue  all 
mankind.  For  should  one  friend  de- 
sert the  ranks  or  cast  away  his  arms 
in  the  presence  of  the  other,  he  would 
suffer  far  acuter  shame  from  that  one 
person's  regard,  than  from  the  regard 
of  all  other  men.  A  thousand  times 
would  he  prefer  to  die,  rather  than 
desert  the  object  of  his  attachment, 
and  not  succour  him  in  danger. 

"There  is  none  so  worthless  whom 
Love  cannot  impel,  as  it  were  by  a 
divine  inspiration,  towards  virtue, 
even  so  that  he  may  through  this  in- 
spiration become  equal  to  one  who 
might  naturally  be  more  excellent; 
and,  in  truth,  as  Homer  says :  The 
God  breathes  vigour  into  certain  he- 
roes— so  Love  breathes  into  those 
who  love,  the  spirit  which  is  produced 
from  himself  Not  only  men,  but  even 
women  who  love,  are  those  alone  who 
willingly  expose  themselves  to  die  for 
others.  Alcestis,  the  daughter  of 
Pelias,  affords  to  the  Greeks  a  re- 

30 


THE  BANQUET   OF  PLATO. 

markable  example  of  this  opinion; 
she  alone  being  willing  to  die  for  her 
husband,  and  so  surpassing  his  par- 
ents in  the  affection  with  which  love 
inspired  her  towards  him,  as  to  make 
them  appear,  in  the  comparison  with 
her,  strangers  to  their  own  child,  and 
related  to  him  merely  in  name ;  and 
so  lovely  and  admirable  did  this  ac- 
tion appear,  not  only  to  men,  but  even 
to  the  Gods,  that,  although  they  con- 
ceded the  prerogative  of  bringing 
back  the  spirit  from  death  to  few 
among  the  many  who  then  performed 
excellent  and  honourable  deeds,  yet, 
delighted  with  this  action,  they  re- 
deemed her  soul  from  the  infernal 
regions  :  so  highly  do  the  Gods  hon- 
our zeal  and  devotion  in  love.  They 
sent  back  indeed  Orpheus,  the  son  of 
CEagrus,  from  Hell,  with  his  purpose 
unfulfilled,  and,  showing  him  only  the 
spectre  of  her  for  whom  he  came,  re- 
fused to  render  up  herself.  For  Or- 
pheus seemed  to  them,  not  as  Alces- 
tis,  to  have  dared  die  for  the  sake  of 
her  whom  he  loved,  and  thus  to  se- 
cure to  himself  a  perpetual  inter- 
course with  her  in  the  regions   to 

31 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

which  she  had  preceded  him,  but  like 
a  cowardly  musician,  to  have  con- 
trived to  descend  alive  into  Hell ;  and, 
indeed,  they  appointed  as  a  punish- 
ment for  his  cov/ardice,  that  he  should 
be  put  to  death  by  women. 

"Far  otherwise  did  they  reward 
Achilles,  the  son  of  Thetis,  whom 
they  sent  to  inhabit  the  islands  of  the 
blessed.  For  Achilles,  though  in- 
formed by  his  mother  that  his  own 
death  would  ensue  upon  his  killing 
Hector,  but  that  if  he  refrained  from 
it  he  might  return  home  and  die  in  old 
age,  yet  preferred  revenging  and  hon- 
ouring his  beloved  Patroclus ;  not  to 
die  for  him  merely,  but  to  disdain  and 
reject  that  life  which  he  had  ceased 
to  share.  Therefore  the  Greeks  hon- 
oured Achilles  beyond  all  other  men, 
because  he  thus  preferred  his  friend 
to  all  things  else. 

"On  this  account  have  the  Gods 
rewarded  Achilles  more  amply  than 
Alcestis ;  permitting  his  spirit  to  in- 
habit the  island  of  the  blessed.  Hence 
do  I  assert  that  Love  is  the  most  an- 
cient and  venerable  of  deities,  and 
most  powerful  to  endow  mortals  with 

32 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

the  possession  of  happiness  and  vir- 
tue, both  whilst  they  live  and  after 
they  die." 

Thus  Aristodemus  reported  the 
discourse  of  Phaedrus;  and  after 
Phaedrus,  he  said  that  some  others 
spoke,  whose  discourses  he  did  not 
well  remember.  When  they  had 
ceased,  Pausanias  began  thus : — 

"Simply  to  praise  Love,  O  Phae- 
drus, seems  to  me  too  bounded  a 
scope  for  our  discourse.  If  Love 
were  one,  it  would  be  well.  But  since 
Love  is  not  one,  I  will  endeavour  to 
distinguish  which  is  the  Love  whom 
it  becomes  us  to  praise,  and  having 
thus  discriminated  one  from  the 
other,  will  attempt  to  render  him  who 
is  the  subject  of  our  discourse  the 
honour  due  to  his  divinity.  We  all 
know  that  Venus  is  never  without 
Love ;  and  if  Venus  were  one.  Love 
would  be  one ;  but  since  there  are  two 
Venuses,  of  necessity  also  must  there 
be  two  Loves.  For  assuredly  are 
there  two  Venuses;  one,  the  eldest, 
the  daughter  of  Uranus,  born  without 
a  mother,  whom  we  call  the  Uranian ; 
the  other  younger,  the  daughter  of 

33 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

Jupiter  and  Dione,  whom  we  call  the 
Pandemian ; — of  necessity  must  there 
also  be  two  Loves,  the  Uranian  and 
Pandemian  companions  of  these 
goddesses.  It  is  becoming  to  praise 
all  the  Gods,  but  the  attributes  which 
fall  to  the  lot  of  each  may  be  distin- 
guished and  selected.  For  any  par- 
ticular action  whatever,  in  itself  is 
neither  good  nor  evil ;  what  we  are 
now  doing — drinking,  singing,  talk- 
ing, none  of  these  things  are  good  in 
themselves,  but  the  mode  in  which 
they  are  done  stamps  them  with  its 
own  nature ;  and  that  which  is  done 
well,  is  good,  and  that  which  is  done 
ill,  is  evil.  Thus,  not  all  love,  nor 
every  mode  of  love  is  beautiful,  or 
worthy  of  commendation,  but  that 
alone  which  excites  us  to  love  worth- 
ily. The  Love,  therefore,  which  at- 
tends upon  Venus  Pandemos  is,  in 
truth,  common  to  the  vulgar,  and 
presides  over  transient  and  fortuitous 
connexions,  and  is  worshipped  by  the 
least  excellent  of  mankind.  The  vo- 
taries of  this  deity  seek  the  body 
rather  than  the  soul,  and  the  ignorant 
rather  than  the  wise,  disdaining  all 

34 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

that  is  honourable  and  lovely,  and 
considering  how  they  shall  best  sat- 
isfy their  sensual  necessities.  This 
Love  is  derived  from  the  younger  god- 
dess, who  partakes  in  her  nature 
both  of  male  and  female.  But  the  at- 
tendant on  the  other,  the  Uranian, 
whose  nature  is  entirely  masculine,  is 
the  Love  who  inspires  us  with  affec- 
tion, and  exempts  us  from  all  wan- 
tonness and  libertinism.  Those  who 
are  inspired  by  this  divinity  seek  the 
affections  of  those  who  are  endowed 
by  nature  with  greater  excellence 
and  vigour  both  of  body  and  mind. 
And  it  is  easy  to  distinguish  those 
who  especially  exist  under  the  influ- 
ence of  this  power,  by  their  choosing 
in  early  youth  as  the  objects  of  their 
love  those  in  whom  the  intellectual 
faculties  have  begun  to  develop.  For 
those  who  begin  to  love  in  this  man- 
ner seem  to  me  to  be  preparing  to 
pass  their  whole  life  together  in  a 
community  of  good  and  evil,  and  not 
ever  lightly  deceiving  those  who  love 
them,  to  be  faithless  to  their  vows. 
There  ought  to  be  a  law  that  none 
should  love  the  very  young ;  so  much 

35 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

serious  affection  as  this  deity  enkin- 
dles should  not  be  doubtfully  be- 
stowed; for  the  body  and  mind  of 
those  so  young  are  yet  unformed,  and 
it  is  difficult  to  foretell  what  will  be 
their  future  tendencies  and  power. 
The  good  voluntarily  impose  this  law 
upon  themselves,  and  those  vulgar 
lovers  ought  to  be  compelled  to  the 
same  observance,  as  we  deter  them 
with  all  the  power  of  the  laws  from 
the  love  of  free  matrons.  For  these 
are  the  persons  whose  shameful  ac- 
tions embolden  those  who  observe 
their  importunity  and  intemperance 
to  assert,  that  it  is  dishonourable  to 
serve  and  gratify  the  objects  of  our 
love.  But  no  one  who  does  this 
gracefully  and  according  to  law,  can 
justly  be  liable  to  the  imputation  of 
blame. 

"  Not  only  friendship,  but  philoso- 
phy and  the  practice  of  the  gj^mnastic 
exercises,  are  represented  as  dishon- 
ourable by  the  tyrannical  govern- 
ments under  which  the  barbarians 
live.  For  I  imagine  it  would  little 
conduce  to  the  benefit  of  the  gover- 
nors, that  the  governed  should  be 

36 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

disciplined  to  lofty  thoughts  and  to 
the  unity  and  communion  of  stead- 
fast friendship,  of  which  admirable 
effects  the  tyrants  of  our  own  country 
have  also  learned  that  Love  is  the 
author.  For  the  love  of  Harmodius 
and  Aristogeiton,  strengthened  into  a 
firm  friendship,  dissolved  the  tyranny. 
Wherever,  therefore,  it  is  declared 
dishonourable  in  any  case  to  serve 
and  benefit  friends,  that  law  is  a 
mark  of  the  depravity  of  the  legisla- 
tor, the  avarice  and  tyranny  of  the 
rulers,  and  the  cowardice  of  those 
who  are  ruled.  Wherever  it  is  sim- 
ply declared  to  be  honourable  with- 
out distinction  of  cases,  such  a  de- 
claration denotes  dullness  and  want 
of  subtlety  of  mind  in  the  authors  of 
the  regulation.  Here  the  degrees  of 
praise  or  blame  to  be  attributed  by 
law  are  far  better  regulated ;  but  it  is 
yet  difficult  to  determine  the  cases  to 
which  they  should  refer. 

"It  is  evident,  however,  for  one  in 
whom  passion  is  enkindled,  it  is  more 
honourable  to  love  openly  than  se- 
cretly ;  and  most  honourable  to  love 
the  most  excellent  and  virtuous,  even 

37 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

if  they  should  be  less  beautiful  than 
others.  It  is  honourable  for  the  lover 
to  exhort  and  sustain  the  object  of  his 
love  in  virtuous  conduct.  It  is  con- 
sidered honourable  to  attain  the  love 
of  those  whom  we  seek,  and  the  con- 
trary shameful ;  and  to  facilitate  this 
attainment,  opinion  has  given  to  the 
lover  the  permission  of  acquiring  fa- 
vour by  the  most  extraordinary  de- 
vices, which  if  a  person  should  prac- 
tice for  any  purpose  besides  this,  he 
would  incur  the  severest  reproof  of 
philosophy.  For  if  any  one  desirous 
of  accumulating  money,  or  ambitious 
of  procuring  power,  or  seeking  any 
other  advantage,  should,  like  a  lover 
seeking  to  acquire  the  favour  of  his 
beloved,  employ  prayers  and  entrea- 
ties in  his  necessity,  and  swear  such 
oaths  as  lovers  swear,  and  sleep  be- 
fore the  threshold,  and  offer  to  sub- 
ject himself  to  such  slavery  as  no 
slave  even  would  endure;  he  would 
be  frustrated  of  the  attainment  of 
what  he  sought,  both  by  his  enemies 
and  friends,  these  reviling  him  for  his 
flattery,  those  sharply  admonishing 
him,  and  taking  to  themselves  the 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

shame  of  his  servility.  But  there  is  a 
certain  grace  in  a  lover  who  does  all 
these  things,  so  that  he  alone  may 
do  them  without  dishonour.  It  is 
commonly  said  that  the  Gods  accord 
pardon  to  the  lover  alone  if  he  should 
break  his  oath,  and  that  there  is  no 
oath  by  Venus.  Thus,  as  our  law  de- 
clares, both  Gods  and  men  have  given 
to  lovers  all  possible  indulgence. 

"The  affair,  however,  I  imagine, 
stands  thus : — As  I  have  before  said, 
love  cannot  be  considered  in  itself  as 
either  honourable  or  dishonourable : 
if  it  is  honourably  pursued,  it  is  hon- 
ourable ;  if  dishonourably,  dishonour- 
able: it  is  dishonourable  basely  to 
serve  and  gratify  a  worthless  person ; 
it  is  honourable  honourably  to  serve 
a  person  of  virtue.  That  Pandemic 
lover  who  loves  rather  the  body  than 
the  soul  is  worthless,  nor  can  be  con- 
stant and  consistent,  since  he  has 
placed  his  affections  on  that  which 
has  no  stability.  For  as  soon  as  the 
flower  of  the  form,  which  was  the 
sole  object  of  his  desire,  has  faded, 
then  he  departs  and  is  seen  no  more ; 
bound  by  no  faith  nor  shame  of  his 

39 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

many  promises  and  persuasions.  But 
he  who  is  the  lover  of  virtuous  man- 
ners is  constant  during  life,  since  he 
has  placed  himself  in  harmony  and 
desire  with  that  which  is  consistent 
with  itself. 

"These  two  classes  of  persons  we 
ought  to  distinguish  with  careful  ex- 
amination, so  that  we  may  serve  and 
converse  with  the  one  and  avoid  the 
other ;  determining,  by  that  inquiry, 
by  what  a  man  is  attracted,  and  for 
what  the  object  of  his  love  is  dear  to 
him.  On  the  same  account  it  is  con- 
sidered as  dishonourable  to  be  in- 
spired with  love  at  once,  lest  time 
should  be  wanting  to  know  and  ap- 
prove the  character  of  the  object.  It 
is  considered  dishonourable  to  be 
captivated  by  the  allurements  of 
wealth  and  power,  or  terrified  through 
injuries  to  yield  up  the  affections,  or 
not  to  despise  in  the  comparison  with 
an  unconstrained  choice  all  political 
influence  and  personal  advantage. 
For  no  circumstance  is  there  in 
wealth  or  power  so  invariable  and 
consistent,  as  that  no  generous 
friendship  can  ever  spring  up  from 
40 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

amongst  them.  We  have  an  opinion 
with  respect  to  lovers  which  declares 
that  it  shall  not  be  considered  servile 
or  disgraceful,  though  the  lover 
should  submit  himself  to  any  species 
of  slavery  for  the  sake  of  his  beloved. 
The  same  opinion  holds  with  respect 
to  those  who  undergo  any  degrada- 
tion for  the  sake  of  virtue.  And  also 
it  is  esteemed  among  us,  that  if  any 
one  chooses  to  serve  and  obey  an- 
other for  the  purpose  of  becoming 
more  wise  or  more  virtuous  through 
the  intercourse  that  might  thence 
arise,  such  willing  slavery  is  not  the 
slavery  of  a  dishonest  flatterer. 
Through  this  we  should  consider  in 
the  same  light  a  servitude  undertak- 
en for  the  sake  of  love  as  one  under- 
taken for  the  acquirement  of  wisdom 
or  any  other  excellence,  if  indeed  the 
devotion  of  a  lover  to  his  beloved  is 
to  be  considered  a  beautiful  thing. 
For  when  the  lover  and  the  beloved 
have  once  arrived  at  the  same  point, 
the  province  of  each  being  distin- 
guished ;  *  *  *  the  one  able  to 
assist  in  the  cultivation  of  the  mind 
and  in  the  acquirement  of  every  other 

41 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

excellence ;  the  other  yet  requiring 
education,  and  seeking  the  possess- 
ion of  wisdom;  then  alone,  by  the 
union  of  these  conditions,  and  in  no 
other  case,  is  it  honourable  for  the 
beloved  to  yield  up  the  affections  to 
the  lover.  In  this  servitude  alone 
there  is  no  disgrace  in  being  deceived 
and  defeated  of  the  object  for  which 
it  was  undertaken,  whereas  every 
other  is  disgraceful,  whether  we  are 
deceived  or  no. 

"On  the  same  principle,  if  any  one 
seeks  the  friendship  of  another,  be- 
lieving him  to  be  virtuous,  for  the 
sake  of  becoming  better  through 
such  intercourse  and  affection,  and  is 
deceived,  his  friend  turning  out  to  be 
worthless,  and  far  from  the  possess- 
ion of  virtue ;  yet  it  is  honourable  to 
have  been  so  deceived.  For  such  a 
one  seems  to  have  submitted  to  a 
kind  of  servitude,  because  he  would 
endure  anything  for  the  sake  of  be- 
coming more  virtuous  and  wise ;  a 
disposition  of  mind  eminently  beau- 
tiful. 

"  This  is  that  Love  who  attends  on 
the  Uranian  deity,  and  is  Uranian ; 

42 


THE    BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

the  author  of  innumerable  benefits 
both  to  the  state  and  to  individuals, 
and  by  the  necessity  of  whose  influ- 
ence those  who  love  are  disciplined 
into  the  zeal  of  virtue.  All  other  loves 
are  the  attendants  on  Venus  Pande- 
raos.  So  much,  although  unpremedi- 
tated, is  what  I  have  to  deliver  on  the 
subject  of  love,  O  Phaedrus." 

Pausanias  having  ceased  (for  so 
the  learned  teach  me  to  denote  the 
changes  of  the  discourse),  Aristode- 
mus  said  that  it  came  to  the  turn  of 
Aristophanes  to  speak ;  but  it  hap- 
pened that,  from  repletion  or  some 
other  cause,  he  had  an  hiccough 
which  prevented  him ;  so  he  turned  to 
Eryximachus,  the  physician,  who  was 
reclining  close  beside  him,  and  said 
— "Eryximachus,  it  is  but  fair  that 
you  should  cure  my  hiccough,  or 
speak  instead  of  me  until  it  is  over." 
— "I  will  do  both,"  said  Eryximachus ; 
"I  will  speak  in  your  turn,  and  you, 
when  your  hiccough  has  ceased,  shall 
speak  in  mine.  Meanwhile,  if  you 
hold  your  breath  some  time,  it  will 
subside.  If  not,  gargle  your  throat 
with  water ;  and  if  it  still  continue, 

43 


THE    BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

take  something  to  stimulate  your 
nostrils,  and  sneeze ;  do  this  once  or 
twice,  and  even  though  it  should  be 
very  violent  it  will  cease." — "Whilst 
you  speak,"  said  Aristophanes,  "I 
will  follow  your  directions." — Eryxi- 
machus  then  began : — 

"Since  Pausanias,  beginning  his 
discourse  excellently,  placed  no  fit 
completion  and  development  to  it,  I 
think  it  necessary  to  attempt  to  fill 
up  what  he  has  left  unfinished.  He 
has  reasoned  well  in  defining  love  as 
of  a  double  nature.  The  science  of 
medicine,  to  which  I  have  addicted 
myself,  seems  to  teach  me  that  the 
love  which  impels  towards  those  who 
are  beautiful,  does  not  subsist  only 
in  the  souls  of  men,  but  in  the  bodies 
also  of  those  of  all  other  living  beings 
which  are  produced  upon  earth,  and, 
in  a  word,  in  all  things  which  are.  So 
wonderful  and  mighty  is  this  divinity, 
and  so  widely  is  his  influence  extend- 
ed over  all  divine  and  human  things  ! 
For  the  honour  of  my  profession,  I 
will  begin  by  adducing  a  proof  from 
medicine.  The  nature  of  the  body 
contains  within  itself  this  double  love. 

44 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

For  that  which  is  healthy  and  that 
which  is  diseased  in  a  body  differ  and 
are  unlike :  that  which  is  unlike,  loves 
and  desires  that  which  is  unlike. 
Love,  therefore,  is  different  in  a  sane 
and  in  a  diseased  body.  Pausanias 
has  asserted  rightly  that  it  is  hon- 
ourable to  gratify  those  things  in  the 
body  which  are  good  and  healthy,  and 
in  this  consists  the  skill  of  the  phy- 
sician; whilst  those  which  are  bad 
and  diseased,  ought  to  be  treated 
with  no  indulgence.  The  science  of 
medicine,  in  a  word,  is  a  knowledge 
of  the  love  affairs  of  the  body,  as  they 
bear  relation  to  repletion  and  evacu- 
ation ;  and  he  is  the  most  skillful  phy- 
sician who  can  trace  those  operations 
of  the  good  and  evil  love,  can  make 
the  one  change  places  with  the  other, 
and  attract  love  into  those  parts  from 
which  he  is  absent,  or  expel  him  from 
those  which  he  ought  not  to  occupy. 
He  ought  to  make  those  things  which 
are  most  inimical,  friendly,  and  excite 
them  to  mutual  love.  But  those 
things  are  most  inimical  which  are 
most  opposite  to  each  other ;  cold  to 
heat,  bitterness  to  sweetness,  dry- 

45 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

ness  to  moisture.  Our  progenitor, 
i£sculapius,  as  the  poets  inform  us, 
(and  indeed  I  believe  them,)  through 
the  skill  which  he  possessed  to  in- 
spire love  and  concord  in  these  con- 
tending principles,  established  the 
science  of  medicine. 

"The  gymnastic  arts  and  agricul- 
ture, no  less  than  medicine,  are  exer- 
cised under  the  dominion  of  this  God. 
Music,  as  any  one  may  perceive,  who 
yields  a  very  slight  attention  to  the 
subject,  originates  from  the  same 
source;  which  Heraditus  probably 
meant,  though  he  could  not  express 
his  meaning  very  clearly  in  words, 
when  he  says,  'One  though  apparent- 
ly differing,  yet  so  agrees  with  itself, 
as  the  harmony  of  a  lyre  and  a  bow.' 
It  is  great  absurdity  to  say  that  a 
harmony  differs,  and  can  exist  be- 
tween things  whilst  they  are  dissim- 
ilar ;  but  probably  he  meant  that  from 
sounds  which  first  differed,  like  the 
grave  and  the  acute,  and  which  after- 
wards agreed,  harmony  was  pro- 
duced according  to  musical  art.  For 
no  harmony  can  arise  from  the  grave 
and  the  acute  whilst  yet  they  differ. 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

But  harmony  is  symphony :  sympho- 
ny is,  as  it  were,  concord.  But  it  is 
impossible  that  concord  should  sub- 
sist between  things  that  differ,  so 
long  as  they  differ.  Between  things 
which  are  discordant  and  dissimilar 
there  is  then  no  harmony.  A  rhythm 
is  produced  from  that  which  is  quick, 
and  that  which  is  slow,  first  being 
distinguished  and  opposed  to  each 
other,  and  then  made  accordant ;  so 
does  medicine,  no  less  than  music, 
establish  a  concord  between  the  ob- 
jects of  its  art,  producing  love  and 
agreement  between  adverse  things. 
"Music  is  then  the  knowledge  of 
that  which  relates  to  love  in  harmony 
and  system.  In  the  very  system  of 
harmony  and  rhythm,  it  is  easy  to 
distinguish  love.  The  double  love  is 
not  distinguishable  in  music  itself; 
but  it  is  required  to  apply  it  to  the 
service  of  mankind  by  system  and 
harmony,  which  is  called  poetry,  or 
the  composition  of  melody ;  or  by  the 
correct  use  of  songs  and  measures 
already  composed,  which  is  called 
discipline;  then  one  can  be  distin- 
guished from  the  other,  by  the  aid  of 

47 


THE   BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

an  extremely  skillful  artist.  And  the 
better  love  ought  to  be  honoured  and 
preserved  for  the  sake  of  those  who 
are  virtuous,  and  that  the  nature  of 
the  vicious  may  be  changed  through 
the  inspiration  of  its  spirit.  This  is 
that  beautiful  Uranian  love,  the  at- 
tendant on  the  Uranian  muse:  the 
Pandemian  is  the  attendant  of  Poly- 
hymnia ;  to  whose  influence  we  should 
only  so  far  subject  ourselves,  as  to 
derive  pleasure  from  it  without  in- 
dulging to  excess  ;  in  the  same  man- 
ner as,  according  to  our  art,  we  are 
instructed  to  seek  the  pleasures  of 
the  table,  only  so  far  as  we  can  enjoy 
them  without  the  consequences  of  dis- 
ease. In  music,  therefore,  and  in 
medicine,  and  in  all  other  things,  hu- 
man and  divine,  this  double  love 
ought  to  be  traced  and  discriminated  ; 
for  it  is  in  all  things. 

"Even  the  constitution  of  the  sea- 
sons of  the  year  is  penetrated  with 
these  contending  principles.  For  so 
often  as  heat  and  cold,  dryness  and 
moisture,  of  which  I  spoke  before,  are 
influenced  by  the  more  benignant 
love,  and  are  harmoniously  and  tem- 

48 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

perately  intermingled  with  the  sea- 
sons, they  bring  maturity  and  health 
to  men,  and  to  all  the  other  animals 
and  plants.  But  when  the  evil  and 
injurious  love  assumes  the  dominion 
of  the  seasons  of  the  year,  destruction 
is  spread  widely  abroad.  Then  pes- 
tilence is  accustomed  to  arise,  and 
many  other  blights  and  diseases  fall 
upon  animals  and  plants :  and  hoar 
frosts,  and  hails,  and  mildew  on  the 
corn,  are  produced  from  that  exces- 
sive and  disorderly  love,  with  which 
each  season  of  the  year  is  impelled 
towards  the  other;  the  motions  of 
which  and  the  knowledge  of  the 
stars,  is  called  astronomy.  All  sac- 
rifices, and  all  those  things  in  which 
divination  is  concerned  (for  these 
things  are  the  links  by  which  is  main- 
tained an  intercourse  and  commun- 
ion between  the  Gods  and  men,)  are 
nothing  else  than  the  science  of  pre- 
servation and  right  government  of 
Love.  For  impiety  is  accustomed  to 
spring  up,  so  soon  as  any  one  ceases 
to  serve  the  more  honourable  Love, 
and  worship  him  by  the  sacrifice  of 
good  actions ;  but  submits  himself  to 

49 


THE   BANQUET   OF   PLATO- 

the  influences  of  the  other,  in  relation 
to  his  duties  towards  his  parents, 
and  the  Gods,  and  the  living,  and  the 
dead.  It  is  the  object  of  divination 
to  distinguish  and  remedy  the  effects 
of  these  opposite  loves;  and  divina- 
tion is  therefore  the  author  of  the 
friendship  of  Gods  and  men,  because 
it  affords  the  knowledge  of  what  in 
matters  of  love  is  lawful  or  unlawful 
to  men. 

"Thus  every  species  of  love  pos- 
sesses collectively  a  various  and  vast, 
or  rather  universal  power.  But  love 
which  incites  to  the  acquirement  of 
its  objects  according  to  virtue  and 
wisdom,  possesses  the  most  exclu- 
sive dominion,  and  prepares  for  his 
worshippers  the  highest  happiness 
through  the  mutual  intercourse  of 
social  kindness  which  it  promotes 
among  them,  and  through  the  benevo- 
lence which  he  attracts  to  them  from 
the  Gods,  our  superiors. 

"Probably  in  thus  praising  Love,  I 
have  unwillingly  omitted  many 
things ;  but  it  is  your  business,  O 
Aristophanes,  to  All  up  all  that  I  have 

so 


THE  BANQUET   OF    PLATO. 

left  incomplete ;  or,  if  you  have  imag- 
ined any  other  mode  of  honouring  the 
divinity ;  for  I  observe  your  hiccough 
is  over." 

"Yes,"  said  Aristophanes,  "but  not 
before  I  applied  the  sneezing.  I  won- 
der why  the  harmonious  construction 
of  our  body  should  require  such  noisy 
operations  as  sneezing ;  for  it  ceased 
the  moment  I  sneezed." — "Do  you  not 
observe  what  you  do,  my  good  Aris- 
tophanes?" said  Eryximachus;  "you 
are  going  to  speak,  and  you  predis- 
pose us  to  laughter,  and  compel  me 
to  watch  for  the  first  ridiculous  idea 
which  you  may  start  in  your  dis- 
course, when  you  might  have  spoken 
in  peace." — "Let  me  unsay  what  I 
have  said,  then,"  replied  Aristo- 
phanes, laughing.  "Do  not  watch 
me,  I  entreat  you ;  though  I  am  not 
afraid  of  saying  what  is  laughable, 
(since  that  would  be  all  gain,  and 
quite  in  the  accustomed  spirit  of  my 
muse,)  but  lest  I  should  say  what  is 
ridiculous." — "Do  you  think  to  throw 
your  dart,  and  escape  with  impunity, 
Aristophanes  ?  Attend,  and  what  you 

51 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

say  be  careful  you  maintain;  then,  per- 
haps, if  it  pleases  me,  I  may  dismiss 
you  without  question." 

"Indeed,  Eryximachus,"  proceeded 
Aristophanes,  "I  have  designed  that 
my  discourse  should  be  very  different 
from  yours  and  that  of  Pausanias. 
It  seems  to  me  that  mankind  are  by  no 
means  penetrated  with  a  conception 
of  the  power  of  Love,  or  they  would 
have  built  sumptuous  temples  and 
altars  and  have  established  magnifi- 
cent rites  of  sacrifice  in  his  honour;  he 
deserves  worship  and  homage  more 
than  all  the  other  Gods  and  he  has 
yet  received  none.  For  Love  is  of  all 
the  Gods  the  most  friendly  to  mortals; 
and  the  physician  of  those  wounds, 
whose  cure  would  be  the  greatest 
happiness  which  could  be  conferred 
upon  the  human  race.  I  will  endea- 
vour to  unfold  to  you  his  true  power, 
and  you  can  relate  what  I  declare  to 
others. 

"You  ought  first  to  know  the  na- 
ture of  man,  and  the  adventures  he 
has  gone  through ;  for  his  nature  was 
anciently  far  different  from  that  which 
it  is  at  present.    First,  then,  human 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

beings  were  formerly  not  divided  into 
two  sexes,  male  and  female;  there 
was  also  a  third,  common  to  both  the 
others,  the  name  of  which  remains, 
though  the  sex  itself  has  disappeared. 
The  androgynous  sex,  both  in  ap- 
pearance and  in  name,  was  common 
both  to  male  and  female ;  its  name 
alone  remains,  which  labours  under 
a  reproach. 

"At  the  period  to  which  I  refer,  the 
form  of  every  human  being  was  round, 
the  back  and  the  sides  being  circu- 
larly joined,  and  each  had  four  arms 
and  as  many  legs;  two  faces  fixed 
upon  a  round  neck,  exactly  like  each 
other;  one  head  between  the  two 
faces ;  four  ears,  and  everything  else 
as  from  such  proportions  it  is  easy  to 
conjecture.  Man  walked  upright  as 
now,  in  whatever  direction  he  pleased; 
but  when  he  wished  to  go  fast  he 
made  use  of  all  his  eight  limbs,  and 
proceeded  in  a  rapid  motion  by  rol- 
ling circularly  round, — like  tumblers, 
who,  with  their  legs  in  the  air,  tumble 
round  and  round.  We  account  for 
the  production  of  three  sexes  by  sup- 
posing that,  at  the  beginning,  the 

53 


THE   BANQUET   OF  PLATO. 

male  was  produced  from  the  sun,  the 
female  from  the  earth ;  and  that  sex 
which  participated  in  both  sexes, 
from  the  moon,  by  reason  of  the  an- 
drogynous nature  of  the  moon.  They 
were  round,  and  their  mode  of  pro- 
ceeding was  round,  from  the  similar- 
ity which  must  needs  subsist  between 
them  and  their  parent. 

"They  were  strong  also,  and  had 
aspiring  thoughts.  They  it  was  who 
levied  war  against  the  Gods ;  and 
what  Homer  writes  concerning  Ephi- 
altus  and  Otus,  that  they  sought  to 
ascend  heaven  and  dethrone  the  Gods, 
in  reality  relates  to  this  primitive 
people,  Jupiter  and  the  other  Gods 
debated  what  was  to  be  done  in  this 
emergency.  For  neither  could  they 
prevail  on  themselves  to  destroy 
them,  as  they  had  the  giants,  with 
thunder,  so  that  the  race  should  be 
abolished ;  for  in  that  case  they  would 
be  deprived  of  the  honours  of  the  sac- 
rifices which  they  were  in  the  custom 
of  receiving  from  them;  nor  could 
they  permit  a  continuance  of  their  in- 
solence and  impiety.  Jupiter,  with 
some  difficulty  having  desired  silence, 

54 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

at  length  spoke.  'I  think,'  said  he,  *I 
have  contrived  a  method  by  which  we 
may,  by  rendering  the  human  race 
more  feeble,  quell  the  insolence  which 
they  exercise,  without  proceeding  to 
their  utter  destruction.  I  will  cut 
each  of  them  in  half;  and  so  they  will 
at  once  be  weaker  and  more  useful 
on  account  of  their  numbers.  They 
shall  walk  upright  on  two  legs.  If 
they  show  any  more  insolence,  and 
will  not  keep  quiet,  I  will  cut  them 
up  in  half  again,  so  they  shall  go 
about  hopping  on  one  leg.' 

"  So  saying,  he  cut  human  beings 
in  half,  as  people  cut  eggs  before 
they  salt  them,  or  as  I  have  seen  eggs 
cut  with  hairs.  He  ordered  Apollo 
to  take  each  one  as  he  cut  him,  and 
turn  his  face  and  half  his  neck  to- 
wards the  operation,  so  that  by  con- 
templating it  he  might  become  more 
cautious  and  humble;  and  then,  to 
cure  him,  Apollo  turned  the  face 
round,  and  drawing  the  skin  upon 
what  we  now  call  the  belly,  like  a  con- 
tracted pouch,  and  leaving  one  open- 
ing, that  which  is  called  the  navel, 
tied    it    in    the    middle.    He    then 

55 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO 

smoothed  many  other  wrinkles,  and 
moulded  the  breast  with  much  such 
an  instrument  as  the  leather-cutters 
use  to  smooth  the  skins  upon  the 
block.  He  left  only  a  few  wrinkles 
in  the  belly,  near  the  navel,  to  serve 
as  a  record  of  its  former  adventures. 
Immediately  after  this  division,  as 
each  desired  to  possess  the  other  half 
of  himself,  these  divided  people  threw 
their  arms  around  and  embraced  each 
other,  seeking  to  grow  together ;  and 
from  this  resolution  to  do  nothing 
without  the  other  half,  they  died  of 
hunger  and  weakness :  when  one  half 
died  and  the  other  was  left  alive,  that 
which  was  thus  left  sought  the  other 
and  folded  it  to  its  bosom ;  whether 
that  half  were  an  entire  woman  (for 
we  now  call  it  a  woman)  or  a  man ; 
and  thus  they  perished.  But  Jupiter, 
pitying  them,  thought  of  another  con- 
trivance. *  *  *  In  this  manner  is 
generation  now  produced,  by  the  un- 
ion of  male  and  female;  so  that  from 
the  embrace  of  a  man  and  woman  the 
race  is  propagated. 

"From  this  period, mutual  love  has 
naturally  existed  between  human  be- 

56 


THE    BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

ings;  that  reconciler  and  bond  of 
union  of  their  original  nature,  which 
seeks  to  make  two  one,  and  to  heal 
the  divided  nature  of  man.  Every  one 
of  us  is  thus  the  half  of  what  may  be 
properly  termed  a  man,  and  like  a 
pselta  cut  in  two,  is  the  imperfect 
portion  of  an  entire  whole,  perpetual- 
ly necessitated  to  seek  the  half  be- 
longing to  him.  *  *  *  * 
"Such  as  I  have  described  is  ever 
an  affectionate  lover  and  a  faithful 
friend,  delighting  in  that  which  is  in 
conformity  with  his  own  nature. 
Whenever,  therefore,  any  such  as  I 
have  described  are  impetuously 
struck,  through  the  sentiment  of  their 
former  union,  with  love  and  desire 
and  the  want  of  community,  they  are 
unwilling  to  be  divided  even  for  a  mo- 
ment. These  are  they  who  devote 
their  whole  lives  to  each  other,  with 
a  vain  and  inexpressible  longing  to 
obtain  from  each  other  something 
they  know  not  what;  for  it  is  not 
merely  the  sensual  delights  of  their 
intercourse  for  the  sake  of  which  they 
dedicate  themselves  to  each  other 
with  such  serious  affection ;  but  the 

57 


THE   BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

soul  of  each  manifestly  thirsts  for, 
from  the  other,  something  which 
there  are  no  words  to  describe,  and 
divines  that  which  it  seeks,  and  traces 
obscurely  the  footsteps  of  its  obscure 
desire.  If  Vulcan  should  say  to  per- 
sons thus  affected,  *My  good  people, 
what  is  it  that  you  want  with  one  an- 
other?' And  if,  while  they  were 
hesitating  what  to  answer,  he  should 
proceed  to  ask,  *Do  you  not  desire 
the  closest  union  and  singleness  to 
exist  between  you,  so  that  you  may 
never  be  divided  night  or  day  ?  If  so, 
I  will  melt  you  together,  and  make 
you  grow  into  one,  so  that  both  in 
life  and  death  ye  may  be  undivided. 
Consider,  is  this  what  you  desire? 
Will  it  content  you  if  you  become 
that  which  I  propose  ?'  We  all  know 
that  no  one  would  refuse  such  an  of- 
fer, but  would  at  once  feel  that  this 
was  what  he  had  ever  sought ;  and 
intimately  to  mix  and  melt  and  to  be 
melted  together  with  his  beloved,  so 
that  one  should  be  made  out  of  two. 
"The  cause  of  this  desire  is,  that 
according  to  our  original  nature,  we 
were  once  entire.  The  desire  and  the 

58 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

pursuit  of  integrity  and  union  is  that 
which  we  all  love.  First,  as  I  said, 
we  were  entire,  but  now  we  have 
been  dwindled  through  our  own 
weakness,  as  the  Arcadians  by  the 
Lacedemonians.  There  is  reason  to 
fear,  if  we  are  guilty  of  any  additional 
impiety  towards  the  Gods,  that  we 
may  be  cut  in  two  again,  and  may  go 
about  like  those  figures  painted  on 
the  columns,  divided  through  the 
middle  of  our  nostrils,  as  thin  as 
lispae.  On  which  account  every  man 
ought  to  be  exhorted  to  pay  due  rev- 
erence to  the  Gods,  that  we  may  es- 
cape so  severe  a  punishment,  and 
obtain  those  things  which  Love, 
our  general  and  commander,  incites 
us  to  desire ;  against  whom  let  none 
rebel  by  exciting  the  hatred  of  the 
Gods.  For  if  we  continue  on  good 
terms  with  them,  we  may  discover 
and  possess  those  lost  and  concealed 
objects  of  our  love;  a  good-fortune 
which  now  befalls  to  few. 

"I  assert,  then,  that  the  happiness 
of  all,  both  men  and  women,  consists 
singly  in  the  fulfillment  of  their  love, 
and  in  that  possession  of  its  objects 

59 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

by  which  we  are  in  some  degree  re- 
stored to  our  ancient  nature.  If  this 
be  the  completion  of  felicity,  that 
must  necessarily  approach  nearest 
to  it,  in  which  we  obtain  the  possess- 
ion and  society  of  those  whose  na- 
tures most  intimately  accord  with 
our  own.  And  if  we  would  celebrate 
any  God  as  the  author  of  this  benefit, 
we  should  justly  celebrate  Love  with 
hymns  of  joy ;  who,  in  our  present 
condition,  brings  good  assistance  in 
our  necessity,  and  affords  great 
hopes,  if  we  preserve  in  piety  towards 
the  Gods,  that  he  will  restore  us  to 
our  original  state,  and  confer  on  us 
the  complete  happiness  alone  suited 
to  our  nature. 

"Such,  Eryximachus,  is  my  dis- 
course on  the  subject  of  Love ;  differ- 
ent indeed  from  yours,  which  I  never- 
theless intreat  you  not  to  turn  into 
ridicule,  that  we  may  not  interrupt 
what  each  has  separately  to  deliver 
on  the  subject." 

"I  will  refrain  at  present,"  said 

Eryximachus,   "for   your   discourse 

delighted  me.    And  if  I  did  not  know 

that  Socrates  and  Agathon  were  pro- 

60 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

foundly  versed  in  the  science  of  love 
affairs,  I  should  fear  that  they  had 
nothing  new  to  say,  after  so  many 
and  such  various  imaginations.  As 
it  is,  I  confide  in  the  fertility  of  their 
geniuses." — "Your  part  of  the  con- 
test, at  least,  was  strenuously  fought, 
Eryximachus,"  said  Socrates,  "but  if 
you  had  been  in  the  situation  in  which 
I  am,  or  rather  shall  be,  after  the  dis- 
course of  Agathon,like  me,  you  would 
then  have  reason  to  fear,  and  be  re- 
duced to  your  wits'  end." — "Socra- 
tes," said  Agathon,  "wishes  to  con- 
fuse me  with  the  inchantments  of  his 
wit,  sufficiently  confused  already  with 
the  expectation  I  see  in  the  assembly 
in  favour  of  my  discourse." — "I  must 
have  lost  my  memory,  Agathon,"  re- 
plied Socrates, "  If  I  imagine  that  you 
could  be  disturbed  by  a  few  private 
persons,  after  having  witnessed  your 
firmness  and  courage  in  ascending 
the  rostrum  with  the  actors,  and  in 
calmly  reciting  your  compositions  in 
the  presence  of  so  great  an  assembly 
as  that  which  decreed  you  the  prize 
of  tragedy."—"  What  then,  Socrates," 
retorted  Agathon,  "  do  you  think  me 

6z 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

so  full  of  the  theatre  as  to  be  igno- 
rant that  the  judgment  of  a  few  wise 
is  more  awful  than  that  of  a  multitude 
of  others,  to  one  who  rightly  balances 
the  value  of  their  suffrages?"  —  "I 
should  judge  ill  indeed,  Agathon," 
answered  Socrates,  "in  thinking  you 
capable  of  any  rude  and  unrefined 
conception,  for  I  well  know  that  if  you 
meet  with  any  whom  you  consider 
wise,  you  esteem  such  alone  of  more 
value  than  all  others.  But  we  are 
far  from  being  entitled  to  this  distinc- 
tion, for  we  were  also  of  that  assem- 
bly, and  to  be  numbered  among  the 
rest.  But  should  you  meet  with  any 
who  are  really  wise,  you  would  be 
careful  to  say  nothing  in  their  pres- 
ence which  you  thought  they  would 
not  approve — is  it  not  so?" — "Cer- 
tainly," replied  Agathon.  —  "You 
would  not  then  exercise  the  same 
caution  in  the  presence  of  the  multi- 
tude in  which  they  were  included?" 
"My  dear  Agathon,"  said  Phaedrus, 
interrupting  him,  "if  you  answer  all 
the  questions  of  Socrates,  they  will 
never  have  an  end ;  he  will  urge  them 
without  conscience  so  long  as  he  can 
62 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

get  any  person,  especially  one  who  is 
so  beautiful,  to  dispute  with  him.  I 
own  it  delights  me  to  hear  Socrates 
discuss ;  but  at  present,  I  must  see 
that  Love  is  not  defrauded  of  the 
praise,  which  it  is  my  province  to  ex- 
act from  each  of  you.  Pay  the  God 
his  due,  and  then  reason  between 
yourselves  if  you  will." 

"Your  admonition  is  just,  Phae- 
drus,"  replied  Agathon,  "nor  need 
any  reasoning  I  hold  with  Socrates 
impede  me :  we  shall  find  many  fu- 
ture opportunities  for  discussion.  I 
will  begin  my  discourse  then;  first 
having  defined  what  ought  to  be  the 
subject  of  it.  All  who  have  already 
spoken  seem  to  me  not  so  much  to 
have  praised  Love,  as  to  have  felici- 
tated mankind  on  the  many  advan- 
tages of  which  that  deity  is  the  cause; 
what  he  is,  the  author  of  these  great 
benefits,  none  have  yet  declared. 
There  is  one  mode  alone  of  celebra- 
tion which  would  comprehend  the 
whole  topic,  namely,  first  to  declare 
what  are  those  benefits,  and  then 
what  he  is  who  is  the  author  of  those 
benefits,  which  are  the  subject  of  our 

63 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

discourse.  Love  ought  first  to  be 
praised,  and  then  his  gifts  declared. 
I  assert,  then,  that  although  all  the 
Gods  are  immortally  happy,  Love,  if 
I  dare  trust  my  voice  to  express  so 
awful  a  truth,  is  the  happiest,  and 
most  excellent,  and  the  most  beauti- 
ful. That  he  is  the  most  beautiful  is 
evident ;  first,  O  Phaedrus,  from  this 
circumstance,  that  he  is  the  youngest 
of  the  Gods ;  and,  secondly,  from  his 
fleetness,  and  from  his  repugnance  to 
all  that  is  old;  for  he  escapes  with 
the  swiftness  of  wings  from  old  age ; 
a  thing  in  itself  sufficiently  swift, 
since  it  overtakes  us  sooner  than 
there  is  need ;  and  which  Love,  who 
delights  in  the  intercourse  of  the 
young,  hates,  and  in  no  manner  can 
be  induced  to  enter  into  community 
with.  The  ancient  proverb,  which 
says  that  like  is  attracted  by  like, 
applies  to  the  attributes  of  Love.  I 
concede  many  things  to  you  O  Phae- 
drus, but  this  I  do  not  concede,  that 
Love  is  more  ancient  than  Saturn 
and  Jupiter.  I  assert  that  he  is  not 
only  the  youngest  of  the  Gods,  but  in- 
vested with  everlasting  youth.  Those 

64 


THE   BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

ancient  deeds  among  the  Gods  re- 
corded by  Hesiod  and  Parmenides,  if 
their  relations  are  to  be  considered 
as  true,  were  produced  not  by  Love, 
but  by  Necessity.  For  if  Love  had 
been  then  in  Heaven,  those  violent  and 
sanguinary  crimes  never  would  have 
taken  place;  but  there  would  ever 
have  subsisted  that  affection  and 
peace,  in  which  the  Gods  now  live, 
under  the  influence  of  Love. 

"He  is  young,  therefore,  and  being 
young  is  tender  and  soft.  There  were 
need  of  some  poet  like  Homer  to  cel- 
ebrate the  delicacy  and  tenderness  of 
Love.  For  Homer  says,  that  the 
goddess  Calamity  is  delicate,  and 
that  her  feet  are  tender.  *  Her  feet 
are  soft,'  he  says,  *for  she  treads  not 
upon  the  ground,  but  makes  her  path 
upon  the  heads  of  men.'  He  gives  as 
an  evidence  of  her  tenderness,  that 
she  walks  not  upon  that  which  is 
hard,  but  that  which  is  soft.  The 
same  evidence  is  sufficient  to  make 
manifest  the  tenderness  of  Love.  For 
Love  walks  not  upon  the  earth,  nor 
over  the  heads  of  men,  which  are  not 
indeed  very  soft ;  but  he  dwells  with- 

65 


THE    BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

in,  and  treads  on  the  softest  of  exist- 
ing things,  having  established  his 
habitation  within  the  souls  and  in- 
most nature  of  Gods  and  men;  not 
indeed  in  all  souls — for  wherever  he 
chances  to  find  a  hard  and  rugged 
disposition,  there  he  will  not  inhabit, 
but  only  where  it  is  most  soft  and 
tender.  Of  needs  must  he  be  the 
most  delicate  of  all  things,  who 
touches  lightly  with  his  feet  only  the 
softest  parts  of  those  things  which 
are  the  softest  of  all. 

"He  is  then  the  youngest  and  the 
most  delicate  of  all  divinities  ;  and  in 
addition  to  this,  he  is,  as  it  were,  the 
most  moist  and  liquid.  For  if  he 
were  otherwise,  he  could  not,  as  he 
does,  fold  himself  around  everything, 
and  secretly  flow  out  and  into  every 
soul.  His  loveliness,  that  which  Love 
possesses  far  beyond  all  other  things, 
is  a  manifestation  of  the  liquid  and 
flowing  symmetry  of  his  form ;  for  be- 
tween deformity  and  Love  there  is 
eternal  contrast  and  repugnance. 
His  life  is  spent  among  flowers,  and 
this  accounts  for  the  immortal  fair- 
ness of  his  skin ;  for  the  winged  Love 

66 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

rests  not  in  his  flight  on  any  form,  or 
within  any  soul  the  flower  of  whose 
loveliness  is  faded,  but  there  remains 
most  willingly  where  is  the  odour  and 
the  radiance  of  blossoms,  yet  unwith- 
ered.  Concerning  the  beauty  of  the 
God,  let  this  be  sufficient,  though 
many  things  must  remain  unsaid. 
Let  us  next  consider  the  virtue  and 
power  of  Love. 

"What  is  most  admirable  in  Love 
is,  that  he  neither  inflicts  nor  endures 
injury  in  his  relations  either  with 
Gods  or  men.  Nor  if  he  suffers  any 
thing  does  he  suffer  it  through  vio- 
lence, nor  doing  any  thing  does  he 
act  it  with  violence,  for  Love  is  never 
even  touched  with  violence.  Every 
one  willingly  administers  every  thing 
to  Love;  and  that  which  every  one 
voluntarily  concedes  to  another,  the 
laws,  which  are  the  kings  of  the  re- 
public, decree  that  is  just  for  him  to 
possess.  In  addition  to  justice.  Love 
participates  in  the  highest  temper- 
ance ;  for  if  temperance  is  defined  to 
be  the  being  superior  to  and  holding 
under  dominion  pleasures  and  de- 
sires; then  Love,  than  whom  no 
67 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

pleasure  is  more  powerful,  and  who 
is  thus  more  powerful  than  all  per- 
suasions and  delights,  must  be  excel- 
lently temperate.  In  power  and  val- 
our Mars  cannot  contend  with  Love : 
the  love  of  Venus  possesses  Mars ; 
the  possessor  is  always  superior 
to  the  possessed,  and  he  who  sub- 
dues the  most  powerful  must  of  ne- 
cessity be  the  most  powerful  of  all. 

"The  justice  and  temperance  and 
valour  of  the  God  have  been  thus  de- 
clared ; — there  remains  to  exhibit  his 
wisdom.  And  first,  that,  like  Eryx- 
imachus,  I  may  honour  my  own  pro- 
fession, the  God  is  a  wise  poet;  so 
wise  that  he  can  even  make  a  poet 
one  who  was  not  before :  for  every 
one,  even  if  before  he  were  ever  so 
undisciplined,  becomes  a  poet  as  soon 
as  he  is  touched  by  Love ; — a  suffi- 
cient proof  that  Love  is  a  great  poet, 
and  well  skilled  in  that  science  ac- 
cording to  the  discipline  of  music.  For 
what  any  one  possesses  not,  or  knows 
not,  that  can  he  neither  give  nor  teach 
another.  And  who  will  deny  that  the 
divine  poetry,  by  which  all  living 
things  are  produced  upon  the  earth, 

68 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

is  harmonized  by  the  wisdom  of  Love? 
Is  it  not  evident  that  Love  was  the 
author  of  all  the  arts  of  life  with  which 
we  are  acquainted,  and  that  he  whose 
teacher  has  been  Love,  becomes  emi- 
nent and  illustrious,  whilst  he  who 
knows  not  Love,  remains  forever  un- 
regarded and  obscure?  Apollo  in- 
vented medicine,  and  divination,  and 
archery,  under  the  guidance  of  desire 
and  Love;  so  that  Apollo  was  the  dis- 
ciple of  Love.  Through  him  the 
Muses  discovered  the  arts  of  litera- 
ture, and  Vulcan  that  of  moulding 
brass,  and  Minerva  the  loom,  and 
Jupiter  the  mystery  of  the  dominion 
which  he  now  exercises  over  gods  and 
men.  So  were  the  Gods  taught  and 
disciplined  by  the  love  of  that  which 
is  beautiful ;  for  there  is  no  love  to- 
wards deformity. 

"At  the  origin  of  things,  as  I  have 
before  said,  many  fearful  deeds  are 
reported  to  have  been  done  among 
the  Gods,  on  account  of  the  domin- 
ion of  necessity.  But  so  soon  as  this 
deity  sprang  forth  from  the  desire 
which  forever  tends  in  the  universe 
towards  that  which  is  lovely,  then  all 
69 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

blessings  descended  upon  all  living 
things,  human  and  divine.  Love 
seems  to  me,  O  Phaedrus,  a  divinity 
the  most  beautiful  and  the  best  of  all, 
and  the  author  to  all  others  of  the  ex- 
cellencies with  which  his  own  nature 
is  endowed.  Nor  can  I  restrain  the 
poetic  enthusiasm  which  takes  poss- 
ession of  my  discourse,  and  bids  me 
declare  that  Love  is  the  divinity  who 
creates  peace  among  men,  and  calm 
upon  the  sea,  the  windless  silence  of 
storms,  repose  and  sleep  in  sadness. 
Love  divests  us  of  all  alienation 
from  each  other,  and  fills  our  vacant 
hearts  with  overflowing  sympathy ; 
he  gathers  us  together  in  such  social 
meetings  as  we  now  delight  to  cele- 
brate, our  guardian  and  our  guide  in 
dances,  and  sacrifices,  and  feasts. 
Yes,  Love,  who  showers  benignity 
upon  the  world,  and  before  whose 
presence  all  harsh  passions  flee  and 
perish;  the  author  of  all  soft  affec- 
tions ;  the  destroyer  of  all  ungentle 
thoughts ;  merciful,  mild ;  the  object 
of  the  admiration  of  the  wise,  and  the 
delight  of  gods ;  possessed  by  the  for- 
tunate, and  desired  by  the  unhappy, 
70 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

therefore  unhappy  because  they 
possess  him  not ;  the  father  of  grace, 
and  delicacy,  and  gentleness,  and  de- 
light, and  persuasion,  and  desire;  the 
cherisher  of  all  that  is  good,  the  abol- 
isher  of  all  evil ;  our  most  excellent 
pilot,  defence,  saviour  and  guardian 
in  labour  and  in  fear,  in  desire  and  in 
reason;  the  ornament  and  governor 
of  all  things  human  and  divine;  the 
best,  the  loveliest;  in  whose  footsteps 
every  one  ought  to  follow,  celebrating 
him  excellently  in  song,  and  bearing 
each  his  part  in  that  divinest  harmony 
which  Love  sings  to  all  things  which 
live  and  are,  soothing  the  troubled 
minds  of  Gods  and  men.  This,  O 
Phaedrus,  is  what  I  have  to  offer  in 
praise  of  the  divinity;  partly  com- 
posed, indeed,  of  thoughtless  and 
playful  fancies,  and  partly  of  such 
serious  ones,  as  I  could  well  com- 
mand." 

No  sooner  had  Agathon  ceased, 
than  a  loud  murmur  of  applause 
arose  from  all  present;  so  becomingly 
had  the  fair  youth  spoken,  both  in 
praise  of  the  God,  and  in  extenuation  of 
himself.    Then  Socrates,  addressing 

7x 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

Eryximachus,  said — "Was  not  my 
fear  reasonable,  son  of  Acumenus? 
Did  I  not  divine  what  has,  in  fact, 
happened, — that  Agathon's  discourse 
would  be  so  wonderfully  beautiful, 
as  to  preoccupy  all  interest  in  what 
I  should  say?" — "You,  indeed,  di- 
vined well  so  far,  O  Socrates,"  said 
Eryximachus,  "that  Agathon  would 
speak  eloquently,  but  not  that,  there- 
fore, you  would  be  reduced  to  any 
difficulty." — "How,  my  good  friend, 
can  I  or  any  one  else  be  otherwise 
than  reduced  to  difficulty,  who  speak 
after  a  discourse  so  various  and  so 
eloquent,  and  which  otherwise  had 
been  sufficiently  wonderful,  if,  at  the 
conclusion,  the  splendour  of  the  sen- 
tences, and  the  choice  selection  of 
the  expressions,  had  not  struck  all 
the  hearers  with  astonishment;  so 
that  I,  who  well  know  that  I  can 
never  say  anything  nearly  so  beau- 
tiful as  this,  would,  if  there  had 
been  any  escape,  have  run  away  for 
shame.  The  story  of  Gorgias  came 
into  my  mind,  and  I  was  afraid  lest 
in  reality  I  should  suffer  what  Homer 
describes;  and  lest  Agathon,  scan- 
72 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

ning  my  discourse  with  the  head  of 
the  eloquent  Gorgias,  should  turn  me 
to  stone  for  speechlessness.  I  im- 
mediately perceived  how  ridiculously 
I  had  engaged  myself  with  you  to  as- 
sume a  part  in  rendering  praise  to 
love,  and  had  boasted  that  I  was  well 
skilled  in  amatory  matters,  being  so 
ignorant  of  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
becoming  to  render  him  honour,  as  I 
now  perceive  myself  to  be.  I,  in  my 
simplicity,  imagined  that  the  truth 
ought  to  be  spoken  concerning  each 
of  the  topics  of  our  praise,  and  that  it 
would  be  sufficient,  choosing  those 
which  are  the  most  honourable  to  the 
God,  to  place  them  in  as  luminous  an 
arrangement  as  we  could.  I  had, 
therefore,  great  hopes  that  I  should 
speak  satisfactorily,  being  well  aware 
that  I  was  acquainted  with  the  true 
foundations  of  the  praise  which  we 
have  engaged  to  render.  But  since, 
as  it  appears,  our  purpose  has  been, 
not  to  render  Love  his  due  honour, 
but  to  accumulate  the  most  beautiful 
and  the  greatest  attributes  of  his  di- 
vinity, whether  they  in  truth  belong  to 
it  or  not,  and  that  the  proposed  ques- 

73 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

tion  is  not  how  Love  ought  to  be 
praised,  but  how  we  should  praise 
him  most  eloquently,  my  attempt 
must  of  necessity  fail.  It  is  on  this 
account,  I  imagine,  that  in  your  dis- 
courses you  have  attributed  every- 
thing to  Love,  and  have  described  him 
to  be  the  author  of  such  and  so  great 
effects  as,  to  those  who  are  ignorant 
of  his  true  nature,  may  exhibit  him  as 
the  most  beautiful  and  the  best  of  all 
things.  Not,  indeed,  to  those  who 
know  the  truth.  Such  praise  has  a 
splendid  and  imposing  effect,  but  as 
I  am  unacquainted  with  the  art  of 
rendering  it,  my  mind,  which  could 
not  forsee  what  would  be  required  of 
me,  absolves  me  from  that  which  my 
tongue  promised.  Farewell  then,  for 
such  praise  I  can  never  render. 

"But  if  you  desire,  I  will  speak 
what  I  feel  to  be  true ;  and  that  I  may 
not  expose  myself  to  ridicule,  I  en- 
treat you  to  consider  that  I  speak 
without  entering  into  competition 
with  those  who  have  preceded  me. 
Consider,  then,  Phaedrus,  whether  you 
will  exact  from  me  such  a  discourse, 
containing  the  mere  truth  with  re- 

74 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

spect  to  Love,  and  composed  of  such 
unpremeditated  expressions  as  may- 
chance  to  offer  themselves  to  my 
mind." — Phaedrus  and  the  rest  bade 
him  speak  in  the  manner  which  he 
judged  most  befitting. — "Permit  me, 
then,  O  Phaedrus,  to  ask  Agathon  a 
a  few  questions,  so  that,  confirmed 
by  his  agreement  with  me,  I  may  pro- 
ceed."—"Willingly,"  replied  Phae- 
drus, "ask." — Then  Socrates  thus 
began: — 

"I  applaud,  dear  Agathon,  the  be- 
ginning of  your  discourse,  where  you 
say,  we  ought  first  to  define  and  de- 
clare what  Love  is,  and  then  his 
works.  This  rule  I  particularly  ap- 
prove. But,  come,  since  you  have 
given  us  a  discourse  of  such  beauty 
and  majesty  concerning  Love,  you 
are  able,  I  doubt  not,  to  explain  this 
question,  whether  Love  is  the  love  of 
something  or  nothing  ?  I  do  not  ask 
you  of  what  parents  Love  is ;  for  the 
inquiry,  of  whether  Love  is  the  love 
of  any  father  or  mother,  would  be  suf- 
ficiently ridiculous.  But  if  I  were 
asking  you  to  describe  that  which  a 
father  is,  I  should  ask,  not  whether 

75 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

a  father  was  the  love  of  any  one,  but 
whether  a  father  was  the  father  of 
any  one  or  not ;  you  would  undoubt- 
edly reply,  that  a  father  was  the 
father  of  a  son  or  daughter ;  would 
you  not  ?"  —  "  Assuredly."  —  "  You 
would  define  a  mother  in  the  same 
manner  ?"—"  Without  doubt."—"  Yet 
bear  with  me,  and  answer  a  few  more 
questions,  for  I  would  learn  from  you 
that  which  I  wish  to  know.  If  I  should 
inquire,  in  addition,  is  not  a  brother, 
through  the  very  nature  of  his  relation, 
the  brother  of  some  one?" — "  Certain- 
ly."— "Of  a  brother  or  sister,  is  he 
not  ?  "— "  Without  question."—"  Try 
to  explain  to  me  then  the  nature  of 
Love ;  Love  is  the  love  of  something 
or  nothing?" — "Of  something,  cer- 
tainly." 

"Observe  and  remember  this  con- 
cession. Tell  me  yet  farther,  whether 
Love  desires  that  of  which  it  is  the 
Love  or  not?" — "It  desires  it,  assur- 
edly."— "Whether  possessing  that 
which  it  desires  and  loves,  or  not  pos- 
sessing it,  does  it  desire  and  love?" — 
"  Not  possessing  it,  I  should  imagine." 
— "Observe  now,  whether  it  does  not 
76 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

appear,  that,  of  necessity,  desire  de- 
sires that  which  it  wants  and  does 
not  possess,  and  no  longer  desires 
that  which  it  no  longer  wants :  this 
appears  to  me,  Agathon,  of  necessity 
to  be ;  how  does  it  appear  to  you  ?  " — 
"It  appears  so  to  me  also." — "Would 
any  one  who  was  already  illustrious, 
desire  to  be  illustrious;  would  any 
one  already  strong,  desire  to  be 
strong?  From  what  has  already 
been  conceded,  it  follows  that  he 
would  not.  If  any  one  already  strong, 
should  desire  to  be  strong;  or  any 
one  already  swift,  should  desire  to  be 
swift;  or  any  one  already  healthy, 
should  desire  to  be  healthy,  it  must 
be  concluded  that  they  still  desired 
the  advantages  of  which  they  already 
seemed  possessed.  To  destroy  the 
foundation  of  this  error,  observe, 
Agathon,  that  each  of  these  persons 
must  possess  the  several  advantages 
in  question,  at  the  moment  present  to 
our  thoughts,  whether  he  will  or  no. 
And,  now,  is  it  possible  that  those 
advantages  should  be  at  that  time 
the  objects  of  his  desire  ?  For,  if  any 
one  should  say,  being  in  health,  'I  de- 

77 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

sire  to  be  in  health ; '  being  rich,  •  I 
desire  to  be  rich,  and  thus  still  desire 
those  things  which  I  already  possess;' 
we  might  say  to  him,  'You,  my  friend, 
possess  health,  and  strength,  and 
riches  ;  you  do  not  desire  to  possess 
now,  but  continue  to  possess  them  in 
future ;  for,  whether  you  will  or  no, 
they  now  belong  to  you.  Consider 
then,  whether,  when  you  say  that  you 
desire  things  present  to  you,  and  in 
your  own  possession,  you  say  any- 
thing else  than  that  you  desire  the 
advantages  to  be  for  the  future  also 
in  your  possession.'  What  else  could 
he  reply?" — "Nothing,  indeed." — "Is 
not  Love,  then,  the  love  of  that  which 
is  not  within  its  reach,  and  which  can- 
not hold  in  security,  for  the  future, 
those  things  of  which  it  obtains  a 
present  and  transitory  possession?" 
— "  Evidently." — "Love,  therefore,  and 
everything  else  that  desires  anything, 
desires  that  which  is  absent  and  be- 
yond his  reach,  that  which  it  has  not, 
that  which  is  not  itself,  that  which  it 
wants ;  such  are  the  things  of  which 
there  are  desire  and  love."— "As- 
suredly." 

78 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

"Come,"  said  Socrates,  "let  us  re- 
view your  concessions.  Is  Love  any- 
thing else  than  the  love  first  of  some- 
thing ;  and,  secondly,  of  those  things 
of  which  it  has  need  ?" — "Nothing." — 
"  Now,  remember  of  those  things  you 
said  in  your  discourse,  that  Love  was 
the  love — if  you  wish  I  will  remind 
you.  I  think  you  said  something  of 
this  kind,  that  all  the  affairs  of  the 
gods  were  admirably  disposed 
through  the  love  of  the  things  which 
are  beautiful ;  for,  there  was  no  love 
of  things  deformed ;  did  you  not  say 
so?"— "I  confess  that  I  did."— "You 
said  what  was  most  likely  to  be  true, 
my  friend ;  and  if  the  matter  be  so, 
the  love  of  beauty  must  be  one  thing, 
and  the  love  of  deformity  another." — 
"Certainly." — "It  is  conceded,  then, 
that  Love  loves  that  which  he  wants 
but  possesses  not?" — "Yes,  certain- 
ly."— "  But  Love  wants  and  does  not 
possess  beauty?" — "Indeed  it  must 
necessarily  follow." — "What,  then! 
call  you  that  beautiful  which  has  need 
of  beauty  and  possesses  not  ?" — "  As- 
suredly no." — "Do  you  still  assert, 
then,  that  Love  is  beautiful,  if  all  that 

79 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

we  have  said  be  true?" — "Indeed, 
Socrates,"  said  Agathon,  "I  am  in 
danger  of  being  convicted  of  ignor- 
ance, with  respect  to  all  that  I  then 
spoke." — "You  spoke  most  eloquent- 
ly, my  dear  Agathon ;  but  bear  with 
my  questions  yet  a  moment.  You 
admit  that  things  which  are  good  are 
also  beautiful?"— "No  doubt."— "If 
Love,  then,  be  in  want  of  beautiful 
things,  and  things  which  are  good  are 
beautiful,  he  must  be  in  want  of  things 
which  are  good?" — "I  cannot  refute 
your  arguments,  Socrates." — "You 
cannot  refute  truth,  my  dear  Aga- 
thon: to  refute  Socrates  is  nothing 
difficult. 

"But  I  will  dismiss  these  question- 
ings. At  present  let  me  endeavour, 
to  the  best  of  my  power,  to  repeat  to 
you,  on  the  basis  of  the  points  which 
have  been  agreed  upon  between  me 
and  Agathon,  a  discourse  concerning 
Love,  which  I  formerly  heard  from  the 
prophetess  Diotima,  who  was  pro- 
foundly skilled  in  this  and  many  other 
doctrines,  and  who,  ten  years  before 
the  pestilence,  procured  to  the  Athen- 
ians, through  their  sacrifices,  a  delay 
80 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

of  the  disease ;  for  it  was  she  who 
taught  me  the  science  of  things  relat- 
ing to  Love. 

"As  you  well  remarked,  Agathon, 
we  ought  to  declare  who  and  what  is 
Love,  and  then  his  works.  It  is  easi- 
est to  relate  them  in  the  same  order, 
as  the  foreign  prophetess  observed 
when,  questioning  me,  she  related 
them.  For  I  said  to  her  much  the 
same  things  that  Agathon  has  just 
said  to  me — that  Love  was  a  great 
deity,  and  that  he  was  beautiful ;  and 
she  refuted  me  with  the  same  reasons 
as  I  have  employed  to  refute  Aga- 
thon, compelling  me  to  infer  that  he 
was  neither  beautiful  nor  good,  as  I 
said.— 'What,  then,'  I  objected,  *0 
Diotima,  is  Love  ugly  and  evil?' — 
'Good  words,  I  entreat  you,'  said  Dio- 
tima; *do  you  think  that  every  thing 
which  is  not  beautiful,  must  of  neces- 
sity be  ugly?'  —  'Certainly.' — 'And 
everything  that  is  not  wise,  ignorant  ? 
Do  you  not  perceive  that  there  is  some- 
thing between  ignorance  and  wis- 
dom?'—'What  is  that?'— 'To  have  a 
right  opinion  or  conjecture.  Observe, 
that  this  kind  of  opinion,  for  which  no 

8i 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

reason  can  be  rendered,  cannot  be 
called  knowledge ;  for  how  can  that 
be  called  knowledge,  which  is  with- 
out evidence  or  reason  ?  Nor  ignor- 
ance, on  the  other  hand ;  for  how  can 
that  be  called  ignorance  which  arrives 
at  the  persuasion  of  that  which  it 
really  is  ?  A  right  opinion  is  some- 
thing between  understanding  and  ig- 
norance.'— I  confessed  that  what  she 
alleged  was  true. — 'Do  you  then  say,' 
she  continued,  'that  what  is  not  beau- 
tiful is  of  necessity  deformed,  nor  what 
is  not  good  is  of  necessity  evil ;  nor, 
since  you  have  confessed  that  Love  is 
neither  beautiful  nor  good,  infer,  there- 
fore, that  he  is  deformed  or  evil,  but 
rather  something  intermediate.' 

"'But,'  I  said,  'Love  is  confessed 
by  all  to  be  a  great  God.' — 'Do  you 
mean,  when  you  say  all,  all  those  who 
know,  or  those  who  know  not,  what 
they  say?' — 'All  collectively.' — 'And 
how  can  that  be,  Socrates?'  said  she 
laughing;  'how  can  he  be  acknowl- 
edged to  be  a  great  God,  by  those  who 
assert  that  he  is  not  even  a  God  at 
all?' — 'And  who  are  they?'  I  said. — 
'You  for  one,  and  I  for  another.' — 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

'How  can  you  say  that,  Diotima?' — 
'Easily,'  she  replied,  'and  with  truth ; 
for  tell  me,  do  you  not  own  that  all  the 
Gods  are  beautiful  and  happy  ?  or  will 
you  presume  to  maintain  that  any  God 
is  otherwise?' — 'By  Jupiter,  not  I!' 
'Do  you  not  call  those  alone  happy 
who  possess  all  things  that  are  beau- 
tiful and  good?' — 'Certainly.' — 'You 
have  confessed  that  Love,  through 
his  desire  for  things  beautiful  and 
good,  possesses  not  those  materials 
of  happiness.' — 'Indeed,  such  was  my 
concession.' — 'But  how  can  we  con- 
ceive a  God  to  be  without  the  possess- 
ion of  what  is  beautiful  and  good?' 

—  'In  no  manner,  I  confess.' — 'Ob- 
serve, then,  that  you  do  not  consider 
Love  to  be  a  God.'— 'What,  then,'  I 
said,  'is  Love  a  mortal?' — 'By  no 
means.' — 'But  what,  then?' — 'Like 
those  things  which  I  have  before  in- 
stanced, he  is  neither  mortal  nor  im- 
mortal, but  something  intermediate.' 

—  'What  is  that,  O  Diotima?'— 'A 
great  daemon,  Socrates;  and  every- 
thing daemoniacal  holds  an  interme- 
diate place  between  what  is  divine  and 
what  is  mortal.' 

83 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

"  'What  is  his  power  and  nature  ?' 
I  inquired. — '  He  interprets  and  makes 
a  communication  between  divine  and 
human  things,  conveying  the  prayers 
and  sacrifices  of  men  to  the  Gods, 
and  communicating  the  commands 
and  directions  concerning  the  mode 
of  worship  most  pleasing  to  them, 
from  Gods  to  men.  He  fills  up  that 
intermediate  space  between  these 
two  classes  of  beings,  so  as  to  bind 
together,  by  his  own  power,  the  whole 
universe  of  things.  Through  him 
subsist  all  divination,  and  the  science 
of  sacred  things  as  it  relates  to  sac- 
rifices, and  expiations,  and  disen- 
chantments,  and  prophecy,  and  magic. 
The  divine  nature  cannot  immediately 
communicate  with  what  is  human,  but 
all  that  intercourse  and  converse 
which  is  conceded  by  the  Gods  to  men, 
both  whilst  they  sleep  and  when  they 
wake,  subsists  through  the  interven- 
tion of  Love ;  and  he  who  is  wise  in 
the  science  of  this  intercourse  is  su- 
premely happy,  and  participates  in 
the  daemoniacal  nature ;  whilst  he  who 
is  wise  in  any  other  science  or  art, 
remains  a  mere  ordinary  slave.  These 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

daemons  are,  indeed,  many  and  vari- 
ous, and  one  of  them  is  Love.' 

"  *  Who  are  the  parents  of  Love  ?* 
I  inquired. — *  The  history  of  what  you 
ask,'  replied  Diotima,  *is  somewhat 
long ;  nevertheless  I  will  explain  it  to 
you.  On  the  birth  of  Venus  the  Gods 
celebrated  a  great  feast,  and  among 
them  came  Plenty,  the  son  of  Metis. 
After  supper,  Poverty,  observing  the 
profusion,  came  to  beg,  and  stood  be- 
side the  door.  Plenty  being  drunk 
with  nectar,  for  wine  was  not  yet  in- 
vented, went  out  into  Jupiter's  gar- 
den, and  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  Pov- 
erty wishing  to  have  a  child  by  Plenty, 
on  account  of  her  low  estate,  lay  down 
by  him,  and  from  his  embraces  con- 
ceived Love.  Love  is,  therefore,  the 
follower  and  servant  of  Venus,  be- 
cause he  was  conceived  at  her  birth, 
and  because  by  nature  he  is  a  lover 
of  all  that  is  beautiful,  and  Venus  was 
beautiful.  And  since  Love  is  the  child 
of  Poverty  and  Plenty,  his  nature  and 
fortune  participate  in  that  of  his  par- 
ents. He  is  for  ever  poor,  and  so  far 
from  being  delicate  and  beautiful,  as 
mankind  imagine,  he  is  squalid  and 

85 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

withered;  he  flies  low  along  the 
ground,  and  is  homeless  and  unsan- 
dalled;  he  sleeps  without  covering 
before  the  doors,  and  in  the  unshel- 
tered streets ;  possessing  thus  far  his 
mother's  nature,  that  he  is  ever  the 
companion  of  want.  But,  inasmuch 
as  he  participates  in  that  of  his  father, 
he  is  for  ever  scheming  to  obtain 
things  which  are  good  and  beautiful ; 
he  is  fearless,  vehement,  and  strong ; 
a  dreadful  hunter,  for  ever  weaving 
some  new  contrivance;  exceedingly 
cautious  and  prudent,  and  full  of  re- 
sources ;  he  is  also,  during  his  whole 
existence,  a  philosopher,  a  powerful 
enchanter,  a  wizard,  and  a  subtle 
sophist.  And,  as  his  nature  is  neither 
mortal  nor  immortal,  on  the  same  day 
when  he  is  fortunate  and  successful, 
he  will  at  one  time  flourish,  and  then 
die  away,  and  then,  according  to  his 
father's  nature,  again  revive.  All  that 
he  acquires  perpetually  flows  away 
from  him,  so  that  Love  is  never  either 
rich  or  poor,  and  holding  for  ever  an 
intermediate  state  between  ignorance 
and  wisdom.  The  case  stands  thus ; 
— no  God  philosophizes  or  desires  to 

86 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

become  wise,  for  he  is  wise;  nor,  if 
there  exist  any  other  being  who  is 
wise,  does  he  philosophize.  Nor  do 
the  ignorant  philosophize,  for  they 
desire  not  to  become  wise ;  for  this  is 
the  evil  of  ignorance,  that  he  who  has 
neither  intelligence,  nor  virtue,  nor 
delicacy  of  sentiment,  imagines  that 
he  possesses  all  those  things  suffi- 
ciently. He  seeks  not,  therefore,  that 
possession,  of  whose  want  he  is  not 
aware.' — 'Who,  then,  O  Diotima,'  I 
inquired,  'are  philosophers,  if  they  are 
neither  the  ignorant  nor  the  wise?' 
— '  It  is  evident,  even  to  a  child,  that 
they  are  those  intermediate  persons, 
among  whom  is  Love.  For  Wisdom 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  all 
things  ;  Love  is  that  which  thirsts  for 
the  beautiful,  so  that  Love  is  of  neces- 
sity a  philosopher,  philosophy  being 
an  intermediate  state  between  ignor- 
ance and  wisdom.  His  parentage 
accounts  for  his  condition,  being  the 
child  of  a  wise  and  well  provided 
father,  and  of  a  mother  both  ignorant 
and  poor. 

**  'Such  is  the  daemoniacal  nature, 
my  dear  Socrates ;  nor  do  I  wonder 

87 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

at  your  error  concerning  Love,  for  you 
thought,  as  I  conjecture  from  what 
you  say,  that  Love  was  not  the  lover 
but  the  beloved,  and  thence,  well  con- 
cluded that  he  must  be  supremely 
beautiful ;  for  that  which  is  the  object 
of  Love  must  indeed  be  fair,  and  deli- 
cate, and  perfect,  and  most  happy ; 
but  Love  inherits,  as  I  have  declared, 
a  totally  opposite  nature.' — 'Your 
words  have  persuasion  in  them,  O 
stranger,'  I  said;  *be  it  as  you  say. 
But  this  Love,  what  advantages  does 
he  afford  to  men  ?' — 'I  will  proceed  to 
explain  it  to  you,  Socrates.  Love  be- 
ing such  and  so  produced  as  I  have 
described,  is,  indeed,  as  you  say,  the 
love  of  things  which  are  beautiful. 
But  if  any  one  should  ask  us,  saying : 
O  Socrates  and  Diotima,  why  is  Love 
the  love  of  beautiful  things  ?  Or,  in 
plainer  words,  what  does  the  lover  of 
that  which  is  beautiful,  love  in  the  ob- 
ject of  his  love,  and  seek  from  it?' — 
*He  seeks,'  I  said,  interrupting  her,  'the 
property  and  possession  of  it.' — 'But 
that,'  she  replied,  *  might  still  be  met 
with  another  question.  What  has  he, 
who  possesses  that  which  is  beauti- 

88 


THE   BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

ful?' — 'Indeed,  I  cannot  immediately 
reply/ — *  But,  if  changing  the  beautiful 
for  good,  any  one  should  inquire, — I 
ask,  O  Socrates,  what  is  that  which 
he  who  loves  that  which  is  good,  loves 
in  the  object  of  his  love  ?' — *To  be  in 
his  possession,'  I  replied. — '  And  what 
has  he,  who  has  the  possession  of 
good?' — 'This  question  is  of  easier 
solution,  he  is  happy.' — 'Those  who 
are  happy,  then,  are  happy  through 
the  possession ;  and  it  is  useless  to 
inquire  what  he  desires,  who  desires 
to  be  happy;  the  question  seems  to 
have  a  complete  reply.  But  do  you 
think  that  this  wish  and  this  love  are 
common  to  all  men,  and  that  all  de- 
sire, that  that  which  is  good  should 
be  for  ever  present  to  them?' — 'Cer- 
tainly, common  to  all.' — 'Why  do  we 
not  say  then,  Socrates,  that  every  one 
loves  ?  if,  indeed,  all  love  perpetually 
the  same  thing?  But  we  say  that 
some  love,  and  some  do  not.' — '  Indeed 
I  wonder  why  it  is  so.' — '  Wonder  not,' 
said  Diotima,  'for  we  select  a  partic- 
ular species  of  love,  and  apply  to  it 
distinctively,  the  appellation  of  that 
which  is  universal.' 

89 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

"  *  Give  me  an  example  of  such  a 
select  application.' — '  Poetry;  which  is 
ageneral  name  signifying  every  cause 
whereby  anything  proceeds  from  that 
which  is  not,  into  that  which  is ;  so 
that  the  exercise  of  every  inventive 
art  is  poetry,  and  all  such  artists  poets. 
Yet  they  are  not  called  poets,  but  dis- 
tinguished by  other  names ;  and  one 
portion  or  species  of  poetry,  that  which 
has  relation  to  music  and  rhythm,  is 
divided  from  all  others,  and  known  by 
the  name  belonging  to  all.  For  this 
is  alone  properly  called  poetry,  and 
those  who  exercise  the  art  of  this  spe- 
cies of  poetry,  poets.  So,  with  respect 
to  Love.  Love  is  indeed  universally 
all  that  earnest  desire  for  the  possess- 
ion of  happiness  and  that  which  is 
good ;  the  greatest  and  the  subtlest 
love,  and  which  inhabits  the  heart  of 
every  living  being;  but  those  who 
seek  this  object  through  the  acquire- 
ment of  wealth,  or  the  exercise  of  the 
g:ymnastic  arts,  or  philosophy,  are  not 
said  to  love,  nor  are  called  lovers ;  one 
species  alone  is  called  love,  and  those 
alone  are  said  be  lovers,  and  to  love, 
who  seek  the  attainment  of  the  uni- 

90 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

versal  desire  through  one  species  of 
love,  which  is  peculiarly  distinguished 
by  the  name  belonging  to  the  whole. 
It  is  asserted  by  some,  that  they  love, 
who  are  seeking  the  lost  half  of  their 
divided  being.  But  I  assert,  that  Love 
is  neither  the  love  of  half  nor  of  the 
whole,  unless,  my  friend,  it  meets  with 
that  which  is  good ;  since  men  willing- 
ly cut  off  their  own  hands  and  feet,  if 
they  think  that  they  are  the  cause  of 
evil  to  them.  Nor  do  they  cherish  and 
embrace  that  which  may  belong  to 
themselves,  merely  because  it  is  their 
own ;  unless,  indeed,  any  one  should 
choose  to  say,  that  that  which  is  good 
is  attached  to  his  own  nature  and  is 
his  own,  whilst  that  which  is  evil  is  for- 
eign and  accidental ;  but  love  nothing 
but  that  which  is  good.  Does  it  not 
appear  so  to  you?' — 'Assuredly.' — 
'Can  we  then  simply  affirm  that  men 
love  that  which  is  good?' — 'Without 
doubt.' — 'What,  then,  must  we  not 
add,  that,  in  addition  to  loving  that 
which  is  good,  they  love  that  it  should 
be  present  to  themselves?' — 'Indeed 
that  must  be  added,' — '  And  not  merely 
that  it  should  be  present,  but  that  it 

91 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

should  ever  be  present  ?' — *  This  also 
must  be  added.' 

"  *Love,  then,  is  collectively  the  de- 
sire in  men  that  good  should  be  for 
ever  present  to  them.' — 'Most  true.* 
— '  Since  this  is  the  general  definition 
of  Love,  can  you  explain  in  what  mode 
of  attaining  its  object,  and  in  what 
species  of  actions,  does  Love  pecu- 
liarly consist?' — *If  I  knew  what  you 
ask,  O  Diotima,  I  should  not  have  so 
much  wondered  at  your  wisdom,  nor 
have  sought  you  out  for  the  purpose 
of  deriving  improvement  from  your 
instructions.' — 'I  will  tell  you,'  she  re- 
plied :  *Love  is  the  desire  of  genera- 
tion in  the  beautiful,  both  with  relation 
to  the  body  and  the  soul.' — *I  must  be 
a  diviner  to  comprehend  what  you  say, 
for,  being  such  as  I  am,  I  confess  that 
I  do  not  understand  it.' — 'But  I  will 
explain  it  more  clearly.  The  bodies 
and  the  souls  of  all  human  beings  are 
alike  pregnant  with  their  future  pro- 
geny, and  when  we  arrive  at  a  certain 
age,  our  nature  impels  us  to  bring 
forth  and  propagate.  This  nature  is 
unable  to  produce  in  that  which  is  de- 
formed, but  it  can  produce  in  that 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

which  is  beautiful.  The  intercourse 
of  the  male  and  female  in  generation, 
a  divine  work,  through  pregnancy 
and  production,  is,  as  it  were,  some- 
thing immortal  in  mortality.  These 
things  cannot  take  place  in  that  which 
is  incongruous ;  for  that  which  is  de- 
formed is  incongruous,  but  that  which 
is  beautiful  is  congruous  with  what  is 
immortal  and  divine.  Beauty  is,  there- 
fore, the  fate,  and  the  Juno  Lucina  to 
generation.  Wherefore,  whenever 
that  which  is  pregnant  with  the  gener- 
ative principle,  approaches  that  which 
is  beautiful,  it  becomes  transported 
with  delight,  and  is  poured  forth  in 
overflowing  pleasure,and  propagates. 
But  when  it  approaches  that  which  is 
deformed  it  is  contracted  by  sadness, 
and  being  repelled  and  checked,  it 
does  not  produce,  but  retains  unwill- 
ingly that  with  which  it  is  pregnant. 
Wherefore,  to  one  pregnant,  and,  as 
it  were,  already  bursting  with  the  load 
of  his  desire,  the  impulse  towards 
that  which  is  beautiful  is  intense,  on 
account  of  the  great  pain  of  retaining 
that  which  he  has  conceived.  Love, 
then,  O  Socrates,  is  not  as  you  imag- 

93 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

ine  the  love  of  the  beautiful.' — *  What, 
then?' — *  Of  generation  and  produc- 
tion in  the  beautiful.' — *  Why  then  of 
generation?' — 'Generation  is  some- 
thing eternal  and  immortal  in  mortal- 
ity. It  necessarily,  from  what  has 
beeen  confessed,  follows,  that  we  must 
desire  immortality  together  with  what 
is  good,  since  Love  is  the  desire  that 
good  be  for  ever  present  to  us.  Of 
necessity  Love  must  also  be  the  de- 
sire of  immortality.' 

"Diotima  taught  me  all  this  doc- 
trine in  the  discourse  we  had  together 
concerning  Love;  and, in  addition,  she 
inquired, '  What  do  you  think,  Socra- 
tes, is  the  cause  of  this  love  and  de- 
sire? Do  you  not  perceive  how  all 
animals,  both  those  of  the  earth  and 
of  the  air,  are  affected  when  they  de- 
sire the  propagation  of  their  species, 
affected  even  to  weakness  and  dis- 
ease by  the  impulse  of  their  love ; 
first,  longing  to  be  mixed  with  each 
other,  and  then  seeking  nourishment 
for  their  offspring,  so  that  the  feeblest 
are  ready  to  contend  with  the  strong- 
est in  obedience  to  this  law,  and  to  die 
for  the  sake  of  their  young,  or  to 

94 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

waste  away  with  hunger,  and  do  or 
suffer  anything  so  that  they  may  not 
want  nourishment.  It  might  be  said 
that  human  beings  do  these  things 
through  reason,  but  can  you  explain 
why  other  animals  are  thus  affected 
through  love?' — I  confessed  that  I 
did  not  know. — *Do  you  imagine  your- 
self,' said  she,  *  to  be  skilful  in  the  sci- 
ence of  Love,  if  you  are  ignorant  of 
these  things?' — *As  I  said  before,  O 
Diotima,  I  come  to  you,  well  knowing 
how  much  I  am  in  need  of  a  teacher. 
But  explain  to  me,  I  entreat  you,  the 
cause  of  these  things,  and  of  the  other 
things  relating  to  Love.' — *If,'  said 
Diotima, '  you  believe  that  Love  is  of 
the  same  nature  as  we  have  mutually 
agreed  upon,  wonder  not  that  such 
are  its  effects.  For  the  mortal  nature 
seeks,  so  far  as  it  is  able,  to  become 
deathless  and  eternal.  But  it  can 
only  accomplish  this  desire  by  gener- 
ation, which  for  ever  leaves  another 
new  in  place  of  the  old.  For,  although 
each  human  being  be  severally  said 
to  live,  and  be  the  same  from  youth 
to  old  age,  yet,  that  which  is  called 
the  same,  never  contains  within  itself 

95 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

the  same  things,  but  always  is  be- 
coming new  by  the  loss  and  change 
of  that  which  it  possessed  before; 
both  the  hair  and  the  flesh,  and  the 
bones,  and  the  entire  body. 

"'And  not  only  does  this  change 
take  place  in  the  body,  but  also  with 
respect  to  the  soul.  Manners,  morals, 
opinions,  desires,  pleasures,  sorrows, 
fears ;  none  of  these  ever  remain  un- 
changed in  the  same  persons;  but 
some  die  away,  and  others  are  pro- 
duced. And,  what  is  yet  more  strange 
is,  that  not  only  does  some  knowledge 
spring  up,  and  another  decay,  and 
that  we  are  never  the  same  with  re- 
spect to  our  knowledge,  but  that  each 
several  object  of  our  thoughts  suffers 
the  same  revolution.  That  which  is 
called  meditation,  or  the  exercise  of 
memory,  is  the  science  of  the  escape 
or  departure  of  memory;  for,  forget- 
fulness  is  the  going  out  of  knowledge; 
and  meditation,  calling  up  a  new 
memory  in  the  place  of  that  which  has 
departed,  preserves  knowledge;  so 
that,  though  for  ever  displaced  and 
restored,  it  seems  to  be  the  same.  In 
this  manner  every  thing  mortal  is 
96 


THE   BANQUET   OF  PLATO. 

preserved :  not  that  it  is  constant  and 
eternal,  like  that  which  is  divine ;  but 
that  in  the  place  of  what  has  grown 
old  and  is  departed,  it  leaves  another 
new  like  that  which  it  was  itself.  By 
this  contrivance,  O  Socrates,  does 
what  is  mortal,  the  body  and  all  other 
things,  partake  of  immortality;  that 
which  is  immortal,  is  immortal  in  an- 
other manner.  Wonder  not,  then,  if 
every  thing  by  nature  cherishes  that 
which  was  produced  from  itself,  for 
this  earnest  Love  is  a  tendency  to- 
wards eternity.' 

"Having  heard  this  discourse,  I 
was  astonished,  and  asked,  *  Can  these 
things  be  true,  O  wisest  Diotima?' 
And  she,  like  an  accomplished  sophist, 
said,  *  Know  well,  O  Socrates,  that  if 
you  only  regard  that  love  of  glory 
which  inspires  men,  you  will  wonder 
at  your  own  unskilfulness  in  not  hav- 
ing discovered  all  that  I  now  declare. 
Observe  with  how  vehement  a  desire 
they  are  affected  to  become  illustrious 
and  to  prolong  their  glory  into  im- 
mortal time,  to  attain  which  object, 
far  more  ardently  than  for  the  sake 
of  their  children,  all  men  are  ready  to 

91 


THE  BANQUET   OF  PLATO. 

engage  in  many  dangers,  and  expend 
their  fortunes,  and  submit  to  any  la- 
bours and  incur  any  death.  Do  you 
believe  that  Alcestis  would  have  died 
in  the  place  of  Admetus,  or  Achilles 
for  the  revenge  of  Patroclus,  or  Codrus 
for  the  kingdom  of  his  posterity,  if 
they  had  not  believed  that  the  immor- 
tal memory  of  their  actions,  which  we 
now  cherish,  would  have  remained 
after  their  death?  Far  otherwise; 
all  such  deeds  are  done  for  the  sake 
of  ever-living  virtue,  and  this  immor- 
tal glory  which  they  have  obtained ; 
and  inasmuch  as  any  one  is  of  an  ex- 
cellent nature,  so  much  the  more  is 
he  impelled  to  attain  this  reward. 
For  they  love  what  is  immortal. 

"'Those  whose  bodies  alone  are 
pregnant  with  this  principle  of  immor- 
tality are  attracted  by  women,  seek- 
ing through  the  production  of  children 
what  they  imagine  to  be  happiness 
and  immortality  and  an  enduring  re- 
membrance ;  but  they  whose  souls  are 
far  more  pregnant  than  their  bodies, 
conceive  and  produce  that  which  is 
more  suitable  to  the  soul.  What  is 
suitable  the  soul  ?  Intelligence,  a^id 
98 


THE    BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

every  other  power  and  excellence  of 
the  mind ;  of  which  all  poets,  and  all 
other  artists  who  are  creative  and  in- 
ventive, are  the  authors.  The  great- 
est and  most  admirable  wisdom  is 
that  which  regulates  the  government 
of  families  and  states,  and  which  is 
called  moderation  and  justice.  Who- 
soever, therefore,  from  his  youth  feels 
his  soul  pregnant  with  the  conception 
of  these  excellences,  is  divine ;  and 
when  due  time  arrives,  desires  to  bring 
forth ;  and  wandering  about,  he  seeks 
the  beautiful  in  which  he  may  propa- 
gate what  he  has  conceived ;  for  there 
is  no  generation  in  that  which  is  de- 
formed; he  embraces  those  bodies 
which  are  beautiful  rather  than  those 
which  are  deformed,  in  obedience  to 
the  principle  which  is  within  him,which 
is  ever  seeking  to  perpetuate  itself. 
And  if  he  meets,  in  conjunction  with 
loveliness  of  form,  a  beautiful,  gener- 
ous and  gentle  soul,  he  embraces 
both  at  once,  and  immediately  under- 
takes to  educate  this  object  of  his 
love,  and  is  inspired  with  an  overflow- 
ing persuasion  to  declare  what  is  vir- 
tue, and  what  he  ought  to  be  who 

99 


THE    BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

would  attain  to  its  possession,  and 
what  are  the  duties  which  it  exacts. 
For,  by  the  intercourse  with,  and  as 
it  were,  the  very  touch  of  that  which 
is  beautiful,  he  brings  forth  and  pro- 
duces what  he  had  formerly  con- 
ceived ;  and  nourishes  and  educates 
that  which  is  thus  produced  together 
with  the  object  of  his  love,  whose  im- 
age, whether  absent  or  present,  is 
never  divided  from  his  mind.  So  that 
those  who  are  thus  united  are  linked 
by  a  nobler  community  and  a  firmer 
love,  as  being  the  common  parents  of 
a  lovelier  and  more  endearing  pro- 
geny than  the  parents  of  other  chil- 
dren. And  every  one  who  considers 
what  posterity  Homer  and  Hesiod, 
and  the  other  great  poets,  have  left 
behind  them,  the  sources  of  their  own 
immortal  memory  and  renown,  or 
what  children  of  his  soul  Lycurgus 
has  appointed  to  be  the  guardians, 
not  only  of  Lacedaemon,  but  of  all 
Greece ;  or  what  an  illustrious  pro- 
geny of  laws  Solon  has  produced,  and 
how  many  admirable  achievements, 
both  among  the  Greeks  and  Barbar- 
ians, men  have  left  as  the  pledges  of 

100 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

that  love  which  subsisted  between 
them  and  the  beautiful,  would  choose 
rather  to  be  the  parent  of  such  chil- 
dren than  those  in  a  human  shape. 
For  divine  honours  have  often  been 
rendered  to  them  on  account  of  such 
children,  but  on  account  of  those  in 
human  shape,  never. 

"  'Your  own  meditation,  O  Socra- 
tes, might  perhaps  have  initiated  you 
in  all  these  things  which  I  have  al- 
ready taught  you  on  the  subject  of 
Love.  But  those  perfect  and  sublime 
ends  to  which  these  are  only  the 
means,  I  know  not  that  you  would 
have  been  competent  to  discover.  I 
will  declare  them,  therefore,  and  will 
render  them  as  intelligible  as  possi- 
ble :  do  you  meanwhile  strain  all  your 
attention  to  trace  the  obscure  depth 
of  the  subject.  He  who  aspires  to 
love  rightly,  ought  from  his  earliest 
youth  to  seek  an  intercourse  with 
beautiful  forms,  and  first  to  make  a 
single  form  the  object  of  his  love,  and 
therein  to  generate  intellectual  excel- 
lences. He  ought,  then,  to  consider 
that  beauty  in  whatever  form  it  re- 
sides is  the  brother  of  that  beauty 

zoz 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

which  subsists  in  another  form  ;  and 
if  he  ought  to  pursue  that  which  is 
beautiful  in  form,  it  would  be  absurd 
to  imagine  that  beauty  is  not  one  and 
the  same  thing  in  all  forms,  and  would 
therefore  remit  much  of  his  ardent 
preference  towards  one,  through  his 
perception  of  the  multitude  of  claims 
upon  his  love.  In  addition,  he  would 
consider  the  beauty  which  is  in  souls 
more  excellent  than  that  which  is  in 
form.  So  that  one  endowed  with  an 
admirable  soul,  even  though  the  flower 
of  the  form  were  withered,  would  suf- 
fice him  as  the  object  of  his  love  and 
care,  and  the  companion  with  whom 
he  might  seek  and  produce  such  con- 
clusions as  tend  to  the  improvement 
of  youth ;  so  that  it  might  be  led  to 
observe  the  beauty  and  the  conform- 
ity which  there  is  in  the  observation 
of  its  duties  and  the  laws,  and  to  es- 
teem little  the  mere  beauty  of  the  out- 
ward form.  He  would  then  conduct 
his  pupil  to  science,  so  that  he  might 
look  upon  the  loveliness  of  wisdom ; 
and  that  contemplating  thus  the  uni- 
versal beauty,  no  longer  would  he  un- 
worthily and  meanly  enslave  himself 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

to  the  attractions  of  one  form  in  love, 
nor  one  subject  of  discipline  or  sci- 
ence, but  would  turn  towards  the  wide 
ocean  of  intellectual  beauty,  and  from 
the  sight  of  the  lovely  and  majestic 
forms  which  it  contains,  would  abund- 
antly bring  forth  his  conceptions  in 
philosophy;  until,  strengthened  and 
confirmed,  he  should  at  length  stead- 
ily contemplate  one  science,  which  is 
the  science  of  this  universal  beauty. 
"  'Attempt,  I  entreat  you,  to  mark 
what  I  say  with  as  keen  an  observa- 
tion as  you  can.  He  who  has  been 
disciplined  to  this  point  in  Love,  by 
contemplating  beautiful  objects  grad- 
ually, and  in  their  order,  now  arriving 
at  the  end  of  all  that  concerns  Love, 
on  a  sudden  beholds  a  beauty  wonder- 
ful in  its  nature.  This  is  it,  O  Socra- 
tes, for  the  sake  of  which  all  the  former 
labours  were  endured.  It  is  eternal, 
unproduced,  indestructible ;  neither 
subject  to  increase  nor  decay:  not, 
like  other  things,  partly  beautiful  and 
partly  deformed ;  not  at  one  time  beau- 
tiful and  at  another  time  not ;  not  beau- 
tiful in  relation  to  one  thing  and  de- 
formed in  relation  to  another;   not 

103 


THE    BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

here  beautiful  and  there  deformed; 
not  beautiful  in  the  estimation  of  one 
person  and  deformed  in  that  of  an- 
other; nor  can  this  supreme  beauty 
be  figured  to  the  imagination  like  a 
beautiful  face,  or  beautiful  hands,  or 
any  portion  of  the  body,  nor  like  any 
discourse,  nor  any  science.  Nor  does 
it  subsist  in  any  other  that  lives  or  is, 
either  in  earth,  or  in  heaven,  or  in  any 
other  place;  but  it  is  eternally  uniform 
and  consistent,  and  monoeidic  with 
itself.  All  other  things  are  beautiful 
through  a  participation  of  it,  with  this 
condition,  that  although  they  are  sub- 
ject to  production  and  decay,  it  never 
becomes  more  or  less,  or  endures  any 
change.  When  any  one,  ascending 
from  a  correct  system  of  Love,  begins 
to  contemplate  this  supreme  beauty, 
he  already  touches  the  consummation 
of  his  labour.  For  such  as  discipline 
themselves  upon  this  system,  or  are 
conducted  by  another  beginning  to 
ascend  through  these  transitory  ob- 
jects which  are  beautiful,  towards  that 
which  is  beauty  itself,  proceeding  as 
on  steps  from  the  love  of  one  form  to 
that  of  two,  and  from  that  of  two,  to 

X04 


THE    BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

that  of  all  forms  which  are  beautiful ; 
and  from  beautiful  forms  to  beautiful 
habits  and  institutions,  and  from  in- 
stitutions to  beautiful  doctrines  ;  un- 
til, from  the  meditation  of  many  doc- 
trines, they  arrive  at  that  which  is 
nothing  else  than  the  doctrine  of  the 
supreme  beauty  itself,  in  the  knowl- 
edge and  contemplation  of  which  at 
length  they  repose. 

"  'Such  a  life  as  this,  my  dear  Soc- 
rates,' exclaimed  the  stranger  Pro- 
phetess, 'spent  in  the  contemplation 
of  the  beautiful,  is  the  life  for  men  to 
live ;  which  if  you  chance  ever  to  ex- 
perience, you  will  esteem  far  beyond 
gold  and  rich  garments,  and  even 
those  lovely  persons  whom  you  and 
many  others  now  gaze  on  with  aston- 
ishment, and  are  prepared  neither  to 
eat  nor  drink  so  that  you  may  behold 
and  live  for  ever  with  these  objects  of 
your  love  !  What  then  shall  we  imag- 
ine to  be  the  aspect  of  the  supreme 
beauty  itself,  simple,  pure,  uncontami- 
nated  with  the  intermixture  of  human 
flesh  and  colours,  and  all  other  idle  and 
unreal  shapes  attendant  on  mortal- 
ity ;  the  divine,  the  original,  the  su- 

105 


THE  BANQUET   OF   PLATO. 

preme,  the  monoeidic  beautiful  itself? 
What  must  be  the  life  of  him  who 
dwells  with  and  gazes  on  that  which 
it  becomes  us  all  to  seek?  Think 
you  not  that  to  him  alone  is  accorded 
the  prerogative  of  bringing  forth,  not 
images  and  shadows  of  virtue,  for  he 
is  in  contact  not  with  a  shadow  but 
with  reality ;  with  virtue  itself,  in  the 
production  and  nourishment  of  which 
he  becomes  dear  to  the  Gods,  and  if 
such  a  privilege  is  conceded  to  any 
human  being,  himself  immortal.' 

"  Such,  O  Phaedrus,  and  my  other 
friends,  was  what  Diotima  said.  And 
being  persuaded  by  her  words,  I  have 
since  occupied  myself  in  attempting 
to  persuade  others,  that  it  is  not  easy 
to  find  a  better  assistant  than  Love 
in  seeking  to  communicate  immortal- 
ity to  our  human  natures.  Wherefore 
I  exhort  every  one  to  honour  Love ;  I 
hold  him  in  honour,  and  chiefly  exer- 
cise myself  in  amatory  matters,  and 
exhort  others  to  do  so ;  and  now  and 
ever  do  I  praise  the  power  and  excel- 
lence of  Love,  in  the  best  manner  that 
I  can.  Let  this  discourse,  if  it  pleases 
you,  Phaedrus,  be  considered  as  an 

io6 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

encomium  of  Love ;  or  call  it  by  what 
other  name  you  will." 

The  whole  assembly  praised  his 
discourse,  and  Aristophanes  was  on 
the  point  of  making  some  remarks  on 
the  allusion  made  by  Socrates  to  him 
in  a  part  of  his  discourse,  when  sud- 
denly they  heard  a  loud  knocking  at 
the  door  of  the  vestibule,  and  a  clamor 
as  of  revellers,  attended  by  a  flute- 
player. — "Go,  boys,"  said  Agathon, 
"  and  see  who  is  there :  if  they  are  any 
of  our  friends,  call  them  in ;  if  not,  say 
that  we  have  already  done  drinking." 
— A  minute  afterwards,  they  heard  the 
voice  of  Alcibiades  in  the  vestibule 
excessively  drunk  and  roaring  out : — 
"\A/^here  is  Agathon?  Lead  me  to 
Agathon!"  —  The  flute-player,  and 
some  of  his  companions  then  led  him 
in,  and  placed  him  against  the  door- 
post, crowned  with  a  thick  crown  of 
ivy  and  violets,  and  having  a  quantity 
of  fillets  on  his  head. — "  My  friends," 
he  cried  out,  "hail!  I  am  excessively 
drunk  already,  but  I'll  drink  with  you, 
if  you  will.  If  not,  we  will  go  away 
after  having  crowned  Agathon,  for 
which  purpose  I  came.  I  assure  you 
107 


THE  BANQUET   OF    PLATO. 

that  I  could  not  come  yesterday,  but 
I  am  now  here  with  these  fillets  round 
my  temples,  that  from  my  own  head 
I  may  crown  his  who,  with  your  leave, 
is  the  most  beautiful  and  wisest  of 
men.  Are  you  laughing  at  me  because 
I  am  drunk  ?  Ay,  I  know  what  I  say 
is  true,  whether  you  laugh  or  not. 
But  tell  me  at  once,  whether  I  shall 
come  in,  or  no.  Will  you  drink  with 
me?" 

Agathon  and  the  whole  party  de- 
sired him  to  come  in,and  recline  among 
them ;  so  he  came  in,  led  by  his  com- 
panions. He  then  unbound  his  fillets 
that  he  might  crown  Agathon,  and 
though  Socrates  was  just  before  his 
eyes,  he  did  not  see  him,  but  sat  down 
by  Agathon,  between  Socrates  and 
him,  for  Socrates  moved  out  of  the 
way  to  make  room  for  him.  When 
he  sat  down,  he  embraced  Agathon 
and  crowned  him  ;  and  Agathon  de- 
sired the  slaves  to  untie  his  sandals, 
that  he  might  make  a  third,  and  re- 
cline on  the  same  couch.  "By  all 
means,"  said  Alcibiades,  "but  what 
third  companion  have  we  here?" 
And  at  the  same  time  turning  round 

io8 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

and  seeing  Socrates,  he  leaped  up  and 
cried  out : — "  O  Hercules !  what  have 
we  here?  You,  Socrates,  lying  in 
ambush  for  me  wherever  I  go !  and 
meeting  me  just  as  you  always  do, 
when  I  least  expected  to  see  you! 
And,  now,  what  are  you  come  here 
for  ?  Why  have  you  chosen  to  recline 
exactly  in  this  place,  and  not  near 
Aristophanes,  or  any  one  else  who  is, 
or  wishes  to  be  ridiculous,  but  have 
contrived  to  take  your  place  beside 
the  most  delightful  person  of  the 
whole  party?" — "  Agathon,"  said  Soc- 
rates, "see  if  you  cannot  defend  me. 
I  declare  my  friendship  for  this  man 
is  a  bad  business :  from  the  moment 
that  I  first  began  to  know  him  I  have 
never  been  permitted  to  converse 
with,  or  so  much  as  to  look  upon  any 
one  else.  If  I  do,  he  is  so  jealous  and 
suspicious  that  he  does  the  most  ex- 
travagent  things,  and  hardly  refrains 
from  beating  me.  I  entreat  you  to 
prevent  him  from  doing  anything  of 
that  kind  at  present.  Procure  a  re- 
conciliation:  or,  if  he  perseveres  in 
attempting  any  violence,  I  entreat 
you  to  defend  me." — "Indeed,"  said 
109 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

Alcibiades,  "I  will  not  be  reconciled 
to  you ;  I  shall  find  another  opportun- 
ity to  punish  you  for  this.  But  now," 
said  he,  addressing  Agathon,  "lend 
me  some  of  those  fillets,  that  I  may 
crown  the  wonderful  head  of  this  fel- 
low, lest  I  incur  the  blame,  that  hav- 
ing crowned  you,  I  neglected  to  crown 
him  who  conquers  all  men  with  his 
discourses,  not  yesterday  alone  as 
you  did,  but  ever." 

Saying  this  he  took  the  fillets,  and 
having  bound  the  head  of  Socrates, 
and  again  having  reclined,  said: 
"Come,  my  friends,  you  seem  to  be 
sober  enough.  You  must  not  flinch, 
but  drink,  for  that  was  your  agree- 
ment with  me  before  I  came  in.  I 
choose  as  president,  until  you  have 
drunk  enough — myself.  Come,  Aga- 
thon, if  you  have  got  a  great  goblet, 
fetch  it  out.  But  no  matter,  that  wine- 
cooler  will  do;  bring  it,  boy!"  And 
observing  that  it  held  more  than 
eight  cups,  he  first  drank  it  off,  and 
then  ordered  it  to  be  filled  for  Socra- 
tes, and  said : — "  Observe,  my  friends, 
I  cannot  invent  any  scheme  against 
Socrates,  for  he  will  drink  as  much  as 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO. 

any  one  desires  him,  and  not  be  in 
the  least  drunk."  Socrates,  after  the 
boy  had  filled  up,  drank  it  off;  and 
Eryximachus  said : — "  Shall  we  then 
have  no  conversation  or  singing  over 
our  cups,  but  drink  down  stupidly, 
just  as  if  we  were  thirsty?"  And 
Alcibiades  said  :  "  Ah,  Eryximachus, 
I  did  not  see  you  before;  hail,  you 
excellent  son  of  a  wise  and  excellent 
father ! " — "  Hail  to  you  also,"  replied 
Eryximachus, "  but  what  shall  we  do?" 
— "Whatever  you  command,  for  we 
ought  to  submit  to  your  directions ;  a 
physician  is  worth  a  hundred  common 
men.  Command  us  as  you  please." 
— "Listen  then,"  said  Eryximachus, 
"before  you  came  in,  each  of  us  had 
agreed  to  deliver  as  eloquent  a  dis- 
course as  he  could  in  praise  of  Love, 
beginning  at  the  right  hand ;  all  the 
rest  of  us  have  fulfilled  our  engage- 
ment ;  you  have  not  spoken,  and  yet 
have  drunk  with  us :  you  ought  to 
bear  your  part  in  the  discussion ;  and 
having  done  so,  command  what  you 
please  to  Socrates,  who  shall  have 
the  privilege  of  doing  so  to  his  right- 
hand  neighbour,  and  so  on  to  the  oth- 

ZXI 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

ers." — "Indeed,  there  appears  some 
justice  in  your  proposal,  Eryximachus, 
though  it  is  rather  unfair  to  induce  a 
drunken  man  to  set  his  discourse  in 
competition  with  that  of  those  who  are 
sober.  And,  besides,  did  Socrates 
really  persuade  you  that  what  he  just 
said  about  me  was  true,  or  do  you  not 
know  that  matters  are  in  fact  exactly 
the  reverse  of  his  representation? 
For  I  seriously  believe  that,  should  I 
praise  in  his  presence,  be  he  god  or 
man,  any  other  beside  himself,  he 
would  not  keep  his  hands  off  me. 
But  I  assure  you,  Socrates,  I  will 
praise  no  one  beside  yourself  in  your 
presence." 

"Do  so,  then,"  said  Eryximachus, 
"praise  Socrates  if  you  please." — 
"What,"  said  Alcibiades,  "shall  I  at- 
tack him,  and  punish  him  before  you 
all?" — "What  have  you  got  into  your 
head  now,"  said  Socrates,  "are  you 
going  to  expose  me  to  ridicule,  and  to 
misrepresent  me  ?  Or  what  are  you 
going  to  do  ?" — "I  will  only  speak  the 
truth ;  will  you  permit  me  on  this  con- 
dition?"— "I  not  only  permit,  but  ex- 
hort you  to  say  all  the  truth  you 


THE   BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

know,"  replied  Socrates. — "I  obey 
you  willingly,"  said  Alcibiades,  "and 
if  I  advance  anything  untrue,  do  you, 
if  you  please,  interrupt  me,  and  con- 
vict me  of  misrepresentation,  for  I 
would  never  willingly  speak  falsely. 
And  bear  with  me  if  I  do  not  relate 
things  in  their  order,  but  just  as  I  re- 
member them,  for  it  is  not  easy  for  a 
man  in  my  present  condition  to  enum- 
erate systematically  all  your  singular- 
ities. 

"  I  will  begin  the  praise  of  Socrates 
by  comparing  him  to  a  certain  statue. 
Perhaps  he  will  think  that  this  statue 
is  introduced  for  the  sake  of  ridicule, 
but  I  assure  you  that  it  is  necessary 
for  the  illustration  of  truth.  I  assert, 
then,that  Socrates  is  exactly  like  those 
Silenuses  that  sit  in  the  sculptors' 
shops,  and  which  are  carved  holding 
flutes  or  pipes,  but  which,  when  divid- 
ed in  two,  are  found  to  contain  within- 
side  the  images  of  the  gods.  I  assert 
that  Socrates  is  like  the  satyr  Mars- 
yas.  That  your  form  and  appearance 
are  like  these  satyrs,  I  think  that 
even  you  will  not  venture  to  deny; 
and  how  like  you  are  to  them  in  all 

"3 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

other  things,  now  hear.  Are  you  not 
scornful  and  petulant  ?  If  you  deny 
this,  I  will  bring  witnesses.  Are  you 
not  a  piper,  and  far  more  wonderful  a 
one  than  he  ?  For  Marsyas,  and  who- 
ever now  pipes  the  music  that  he 
taught,  for  that  music  which  is  of 
heaven,  and  described  as  beingtaught 
by  Marsyas,  inchants  men  through 
the  power  of  the  mouth.  For  if  any 
musician,  be  he  skilful  or  not,  awak- 
ens this  music,  it  alone  enables  him 
to  retain  the  minds  of  men,  and  from 
the  divinity  of  its  nature  makes  evi- 
dent those  who  are  in  want  of  the 
gods  and  initiation.  You  differ  only 
from  Marsyas  in  this  circumstance, 
that  you  effect  without  instruments, 
by  mere  words,  all  that  he  can  do. 
For  when  we  hear  Pericles,  or  any 
other  accomplished  orator,  deliver  a 
discourse,  no  one,  as  it  were,  cares 
any  thing  about  it.  But  when  any 
one  hears  you,  or  even  your  words 
related  by  another,  though  ever  so 
rude  and  unskilful  a  speaker,  be  that 
person  a  woman,  man  or  child,  we  are 
struck  and  retained,  as  it  were,  by 
the  discourse  clinging  to  our  mind. 
114 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

"If  I  was  not  afraid  that  I  am  a 
great  deal  too  drunk,  I  would  confirm 
to  you  by  an  oath  the  strange  effects 
which  I  assure  you  I  have  suffered 
from  his  words,  and  suffer  still;  for 
when  I  hear  him  speak,  my  heart 
leaps  up  far  more  than  the  hearts  of 
those  who  celebrate  the  Corybantic 
mysteries ;  my  tears  are  poured  out 
as  he  talks,  a  thing  I  have  seen  hap- 
pen to  many  others  beside  myself.  I 
have  heard  Pericles  and  other  excel- 
lent orators,  and  have  been  pleased 
with  their  discourses,  but  I  suffered 
nothing  of  this  kind;  nor  was  my 
soul  ever  on  those  occasions  disturbed 
and  filled  with  self-reproach,  as  if  it 
were  slavishly  laid  prostrate.  But 
this  Marsyas  here  has  often  affected 
me  in  the  way  I  describe,  until  the  life 
which  I  lead  seemed  hardly  worth 
living.  Do  not  deny  it,  Socrates,  for 
I  well  know  that  if  even  now  I  chose 
to  listen  to  you,  I  could  not  resist,  but 
should  again  suffer  the  same  effects. 
For,  my  friends,  he  forces  me  to  con- 
fess that  while  I  myself  am  still  in 
want  of  many  things,  I  neglect  my 
own  necessities,  and  attend  to  those 

IIS 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

of  the  Athenians.  I  stop  my  ears, 
therefore,  as  from  the  Syrens,  and 
flee  away  as  fast  as  possible,  that  I 
may  not  sit  down  beside  him  and 
grow  old  in  listening  to  his  talk.  For 
this  man  has  reduced  me  to  feel  the 
sentiment  of  shame,  which  I  imagine 
no  one  would  readily  believe  was  in 
me ;  he  alone  inspires  me  with  remorse 
and  awe.  For  I  feel  in  his  presence 
my  incapacity  of  refuting  what  he 
says,  or  of  refusing  to  do  that  which 
he  directs ;  but  when  I  depart  from 
him,  the  glory  which  the  multitude 
confers  overwhelms  me.  I  escape, 
therefore,  and  hide  myself  from  him, 
and  when  I  see  him  I  am  overwhelmed 
with  humiliation,  because  I  have  neg- 
lected to  do  what  I  have  confessed  to 
him  ought  to  be  done  ;  and  often  and 
often  have  I  wished  that  he  were  no 
longer  to  be  seen  among  men.  But 
if  that  were  to  happen,  I  well  know 
that  I  should  suffer  far  greater  pain ; 
so  that  where  I  can  turn,  or  what  I 
can  do  with  this  man,  I  know  not. 
All  this  have  I  and  many  others  suf- 
fered from  the  pipings  of  this  satyr. 
"And  observe,  how  like  he  is  to 
1X6 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

what  I  said,  and  what  a  wonderful 
powerhe  possesses.  Know  that  there 
is  not  one  of  you  who  is  aware  of  the 
real  nature  of  Socrates ;  but  since  I 
have  begun,  I  will  make  him  plain  to 
you.  You  observe  how  passionately 
Socrates  affects  the  intimacy  of  those 
who  are  beautiful,  and  how  ignorant 
he  professes  himself  to  be ;  appear- 
.ances  in  themselves  excessively  Sil- 
enic.  This,  my  friends,  is  the  external 
form  with  which,  like  one  of  the  sculp- 
tured Sileni,  he  has  clothed  himself; 
for  if  you  open  him,  you  will  find  within 
admirable  temperance  and  wisdom. 
For  he  cares  not  for  mere  beauty,  but 
despises  more  than  any  one  can  imag- 
ine all  external  possessions,  whether 
it  be  beauty  or  wealth,  or  glory,  or  any 
other  thing  for  which  the  multitude 
felicitates  the  possessor.  He  esteems 
these  things  and  us  who  honour  them, 
as  nothing,  and  lives  among  men, 
making  all  the  objects  of  their  admira- 
tion the  playthings  of  his  irony.  Bu^ 
I  know  not  if  any  one  of  you  have  ever 
seen  the  divine  images  which  are 
within,  when  he  has  been  opened  and 
is  serious.  I  have  seen  them,  and 
117 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

they  are  so  supremely  beautiful,  so 
golden,  so  divine,  and  wonderful,  that 
everything  which  Socrates  commands 
surely  ought  to  be  obeyed,  even  like 
the  voice  of  a  God.  *  *  *  * 
"At  one  time  we  were  fellow-sol- 
diers, and  had  our  mess  together  in 
the  camp  before  Potidaea.  Socrates 
there  overcame  not  only  me,  but 
every  one  beside,  in  endurance  of 
toils:  when,  as  often  happens  in  a 
campaign,  we  were  reduced  to  few 
provisions,  there  were  none  who  could 
sustain  hunger  like  Socrates;  and 
when  we  had  plenty,  he  alone  seemed 
to  enjoy  our  military  fare.  He  never 
drank  much  willingly,  but  when  he 
was  compelled  he  conquered  all  even 
in  that  to  which  he  was  least  accus- 
tomed; and  what  is  most  astonish- 
ing, no  person  ever  saw  Socrates 
drunk  either  then  or  at  any  other 
time.  In  the  depth  of  winter  (and  the 
winters  there  are  excessively  rigid), 
he  sustained  calmly  incredible  hard- 
ships: and  amongst  other  things, 
whilst  the  frost  was  intolerably  se- 
vere, and  no  one  went  out  of  their 
tents,  or  if  they  went  out,  wrapt  them- 

Il8 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

selves  up  carefully,  and  put  fleeces 
under  their  feet,  and  bound  their  legs 
with  hairy  skins,  Socrates  went  out 
only  with  the  same  cloak  on  that  he 
usually  wore,  and  walked  barefoot 
upon  the  ice;  more  easily,  indeed, 
than  those  who  had  sandalled  them- 
selves so  delicately :  so  that  the  sol- 
diers thought  that  he  did  it  to  mock 
their  want  of  fortitude.  It  would  in- 
deed be  worth  while  to  commemorate 
all  that  this  brave  man  did  and  endured 
in  that  expedition.  In  one  instance 
he  was  seen  early  in  the  morning, 
standing  in  one  place  wrapt  in  medi- 
tation ;  and  as  he  seemed  not  to  be 
able  to  unravel  the  subject  of  his 
thoughts,  he  still  continued  to  stand 
as  inquiring  and  discussing  within 
himself,  and  when  noon  came,  the 
soldiers  observed  him,  and  said  to  one 
another — 'Socrates  has  been  stand- 
ing there  thinking,  ever  since  the 
morning.'  At  last  some  lonians  came 
to  the  spot,  and  having  supped,  as  it 
was  summer,  bringing  their  blankets, 
they  lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  cool; 
they  observed  that  Socrates  continued 
to  stand  there  the  whole  night  until 
119 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

morning,  and  that,  when  the  sun  rose, 
he  saluted  it  with  a  prayer  and  de- 
parted. 

"  I  ought  not  to  omit  what  Socrates 
is  in  battle.  For  in  that  battle  after 
which  the  generals  decreed  to  me  the 
prize  of  courage,  Socrates  alone  of  all 
men  was  the  saviour  of  my  life,  stand- 
ing by  me  when  I  had  fallen  and  was 
wounded,  and  preserving  both  myself 
and  my  arms  from  the  hands  of  the 
enemy.  On  that  occasion  I  intreated 
the  generals  to  decree  the  prize,  as  it 
was  most  due,  to  him.  And  this,  O 
Socrates,  you  cannot  deny,  that  while 
the  generals  wishing  to  conciliate  a 
person  of  my  rank,  desired  to  give  me 
the  prize,  you  were  far  more  earnestly 
desirous  than  the  generals  that  this 
glory  should  be  attributed  not  to  your- 
self, but  me. 

"But  to  see  Socrates  when  our  army 
was  defeated  and  scattered  in  flight 
at  Delius,  was  a  spectacle  worthy 
to  behold.  On  that  occasion  I  was 
among  the  cavalry,  and  he  on  foot, 
heavily  armed.  After  the  total  rout 
of  our  troops,  he  and  Laches  retreated 
together ;  I  came  up  by  chance,  and 

zao 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

seeing  them,  bade  them  be  of  good 
cheer,  for  that  I  would  not  leave  them. 
As  I  was  on  horseback,  and  therefore 
less  occupied  by  a  regard  of  my  own 
situation,  I  could  better  observe  than 
at  Potidaea  the  beautiful  spectacle  ex- 
hibited by  Socrates  on  this  emergency. 
How  superior  was  he  to  Laches  in 
presence  of  mind  and  courage !  Your 
representation  of  him  on  the  stage,  O 
Aristophanes,  was  not  wholly  unlike 
his  real  self  on  this  occasion,  for  he 
walked  and  darted  his  regards  around 
with  a  majestic  composure,  looking 
tranquilly  both  on  his  friends  and  ene- 
mies ;  so  that  it  was  evident  to  every 
one,  even  from  afar,  that  whoever 
should  venture  to  attack  him  would 
encounter  a  desperate  resistance. 
He  and  his  companion  thus  departed 
in  safety;  for  those  who  are  scat- 
tered in  flight  are  pursued  and  killed, 
whilst  men  hesitate  to  touch  those 
who  exhibit  such  a  countenance  as 
that  of  Socrates  even  in  defeat. 

"Many  other  and  most  wonderful 
qualities  might  well  be  praised  in 
Socrates;  but  such  as  these  might 
singly  be  attributed  to  others.    But 

X3X 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

that  which  is  unparalleled  in  Socra- 
tes, is,  that  he  is  unlike  and  above  com- 
parison with  all  other  men,  whether 
those  who  have  lived  in  ancient  times, 
or  those  who  exist  now.  For  it  may- 
be conjectured,  that  Brasidas  and 
many  others  are  such  as  was  Achil- 
les. Pericles  deserves  comparison 
with  Nestor  and  Antenor;  and  other 
excellent  persons  of  various  times 
may,  with  probability,  be  drawn  into 
comparison  with  each  other.  But  to 
such  a  singular  man  as  this,  both 
himself  and  his  discourses  are  so  un- 
common, no  one,  should  he  seek, 
would  find  a  parallel  among  the  pres- 
ent or  the  past  generation  of  man- 
kind ;  unless  they  should  say  that  he 
resembled  those  with  whom  I  lately 
compared  him,  for,  assuredly,  he  and 
bis  discourses  are  like  nothing  but 
the  Sileni,  and  the  Satyrs.  At  first  I 
forgot  to  make  you  observe  how  like 
his  discourses  are  to  those  Satyrs 
when  they  are  opened,  for,  if  any  one 
will  listen  to  the  talk  of  Socrates,  it 
will  appear  to  him  at  first  extremely 
ridiculous ;  the  phrases  and  express- 
ions which  he  employs,  fold  around 

122 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

his  exterior  the  skin,  as  it  were,  of  a 
rude  and  wanton  Satyr.  He  is  always 
talking  about  great  market-asses, 
and  brass-founders,  and  leather-cut- 
ters, and  skin-dressers;  and  this  is 
his  perpetual  custom,  so  that  any  dull 
and  unobservant  person  might  easily 
laugh  at  his  discourse.  But  if  any  one 
should  see  it  opened,  as  it  were,  and 
get  within  the  sense  of  his  words,  he 
would  then  find  that  they  alone  of  all 
that  enters  into  the  mind  of  man  to 
utter,  had  a  profound  and  persuasive 
meaning,  and  that  they  were  most 
divine;  and  that  they  presented  to 
the  mind  innumerable  images  of  every 
excellence,  and  that  they  tended  to- 
wards objects  of  the  highest  moment, 
or  rather  towards  all  that  he  who 
seeks  the  possession  of  what  is  su- 
premely beautiful  and  good  need  re- 
gard as  essential  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  his  ambition. 

"  These  are  the  things,  my  friends, 
for  which  I  praise  Socrates."    *   *   * 

Alcibiades  having  said  this,  the 

whole  party  burst  into  a  laugh  at  his 

frankness,  and  Socrates  said,  "You 

seem  to  be  sober  enough,  Alcibiades, 

123 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

else  you  would  not  have  made  such  a 
circuit  of  words,  only  to  hide  the  main 
design  for  which  you  made  this  long 
speech,  and  which,  as  it  were  care- 
lessly, you  just  throw  in  at  the  last ; 
now,  as  if  you  had  not  said  all  this  for 
the  mere  purpose  of  dividing  me  and 
Agathon  ?  You  think  that  I  ought  to 
be  your  friend,  and  to  care  for  no  one 
else.  I  have  found  you  out ;  it  is  evi- 
dent enough  for  what  design  you  in- 
vented all  this  Satyrical  and  Silenic 
drama.  But,  my  dear  Agathon,  do 
not  let  his  device  succeed.  I  intreat 
you  to  permit  no  one  to  throw  discord 
between  us." — "No  doubt,"  said  Aga- 
thon, "  he  sate  down  between  us  only 
that  he  might  divide  us ;  but  this  shall 
not  assist  his  scheme,  for  I  will  come 
and  sit  near  you." — "Do  so,"  said 
Socrates,  "come,  there  is  room  for 
you  by  me."  —  "Oh,  Jupiter!"  ex- 
claimed Alcibiades,  "what  I  endure 
from  that  man !  He  thinks  to  subdue 
every  way ;  but,  at  least,  I  pray  you, 
let  Agathon  remain  between  us." — 
"Impossible,"  said  Socrates,  "you 
have  just  praised  me;  I  ought  to 
praise  him  sitting  at  my  right  hand. 
124 


THE  BANQUET  OF   PLATO, 

If  Agathon  is  placed  beside  you,  will 
he  not  praise  me  before  I  praise  him  ? 
Now,  my  dear  friend,  allow  the  young 
man  to  receive  what  praise  I  can 
give  him.  I  have  a  great  desire  to 
pronounce  his  encomium." — "Quick, 
quick,  Alcibiades,"  said  Agathon,  "I 
cannot  stay  here,  I  must  change  my 
place,  or  Socrates  will  not  praise  me." 
— Agathon  then  arose  to  take  his 
place  near  Socrates. 

He  had  no  sooner  reclined  than 
there  came  in  a  number  of  revellers — 
for  some  one  who  had  gone  out  had 
left  the  door  open — and  took  their 
places  on  the  vacant  couches,  and 
everything  became  full  of  confusion ; 
and  no  order  being  observed,  every 
one  was  obliged  to  drink  a  great 
quantity  of  wine.  Eryximachus,  and 
Phaedrus,  and  some  others,  said  Aris- 
todemus,  went  home  to  bed ;  that,  for 
his  part,  he  went  to  sleep  on  his 
couch,  and  slept  long  and  soundly 
— the  nights  were  then  long — until 
the  cock  crew  in  the  morning.  When 
he  awoke  he  found  that  some  were 
still  fast  asleep,  and  others  had  gone 
home,  and  that  Aristophanes,  Aga- 

125 


THE  BANQUET  OF  PLATO. 

thon,  and  Socrates  had  alone  stood 
it  out,  and  were  still  drinking  out  of 
a  great  goblet  which  they  passed 
round  and  round.  Socrates  was  dis- 
puting between  them.  The  begin- 
ning of  their  discussion  Aristodemus 
said  that  he  did  not  recollect,  because 
he  was  asleep ;  but  it  was  terminated 
by  Socrates  forcing  them  to  confess, 
that  the  same  person  is  able  to  con- 
pose  both  tragedy  and  comedy,  and 
that  the  foundations  of  the  tragic  and 
comic  arts  were  essentially  the  same. 
They,  rather  convicted  than  con- 
vinced, went  to  sleep.  Aristophanes 
first  awoke,  and  then,  it  being  broad 
daylight,  Agathon.  Socrates,  having 
put  them  to  sleep,  went  away,  Aris- 
todemus following  him,  and  coming 
to  the  Lyceum  he  washed  himself,  as 
he  would  have  done  anywhere  else, 
and  after  having  spent  the  day  there 
in  his  accustomed  manner,  went  home 
in  the  evening. 


Printed  by  R.  R.  Donnelley 
ft  Sons  Co.  at  the  Lakeside 
Press,  Chicago :  mdcccxcv 


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